


Lodestar

by Rivehn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Magical Bond, No Beta, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23577004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivehn/pseuds/Rivehn
Summary: Hermione may have survived the war, but she needs to heal. Maybe Severus and Hermione can help each other. Trauma is persistent and life is hard, but together it may just be worth it. Living...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter One

Hermione was the only one of the so-called golden trio to return to Hogwarts for her final year. _I wonder who else is returning?_ She thought, glancing around her in disinterest. It didn’t really matter to her. She wasn’t here to befriend people. She hated attention and she hated the sheeple who had come crawling out of the woodwork to bother her the second the danger was over. She had always been a solitary creature. Trauma and the thrice-damned press had made that so much worse. 

Idly swirling a fork through her mostly untouched pasta she glanced around the Great Hall again. _Ah, Malfoy came back then, and_ _Zabini_ _too..._ She scanned the Gryffindor table quickly. _Nobody from my house though... that might be nice, I should have the dorm all to myself._ She might have enjoyed sharing space with Harry and Ron, but as they were both boys, and also not here, she didn’t want to share with anybody else. 

She spotted nobody who she was personally familiar with at the Hufflepuff table, and the Ravenclaws offered no returning eighth year students either. _I hope nobody merges us with the current seventh years... I’d hate being stuck in a class full of unknowns. I don’t want to get to know new people at all._

Hermione completely ignored the speech given by Headmistress McGonagall. She was out of her seat and halfway out of the Great Hall before most people even registered that they were supposed to go to their common rooms now. The empty corridors were soothing after being stuck in the full yet empty, too empty Great Hall. _So many wixen dead and for what..._ Halfway back to the Gryffindor Tower a huge orange cat appeared to wind around her legs. “Hey Crookshanks..." She muttered hoarsely; voice unused to the strain after weeks of being nearly mute. 

Picking up her familiar, she hurried through the portrait, eager to get to her hopefully empty dorm room. Being around crowds was almost nerve wrecking now. _I am a goddamn mess... How the fuck am I supposed to get through this year if I almost panic over merely being around crowds..._

Shuffling into her dorm room she immediately spotted the single poster bed in the now significantly smaller dorm room. _Oh_ _thank Morgana. I don’t know how I would have slept if I had been forced to room with those girls._

She waved a hand nonchalantly over her trunk, which immediately started unpacking itself. It was mostly full of clothes, books and knickknacks. Hermione had long since learned to keep the essentials with her in her charmed beaded bag. Taking a few of her ward stones, she cut her hand and dripped blood on them. She tied a temporary ward to them, to shield her room. Her paranoia left her unable to sleep in an unshielded place. Maybe it wouldn’t save her if she did end up being attacked, but the ward would warn her. 

Sighing loudly, a whoosh of air escaping her lungs, she opened the window, enjoying the late summer breeze that tousled her hair lightly. Lighting a cigarette, she stared at the almost endless expanse of the sprawling Hogwarts grounds. _This... is going to be a really long year._

Guiding a spark of magic through the inhaled smoke, she breathed out a detailed white dragon. Watching it rear up and roar before fading she sighed, turning away, already tired. _Off to bed then..._

* * *

Hermione woke up in a foul mood. _Another night, another nightmare..._ Gathering her books she wrapped her magic around them to apply the featherlight charm before stuffing them all into her slightly extended bag. She only just remembered to stick her wand through the bun she had thrown her hair into. She didn’t use it much anymore, unwilling to ever be helpless or disarmed again. She had worked incredibly hard to master as much wandless magic as possible. _Dragging around a piece of wood to cast magic... Ridiculous. Wixen are magic..._

She dragged herself down seven flights of stairs. _It is six o fucking clock and I... am awake. I bloody well hate this. I am sleep deprived as it is._ Almost stomping into the Great Hall she missed Professor McGonagall’s raised eyebrow at her uncharacteristic behaviour. Hermione had always been an early bird so why was she so... grumpy. 

Sulkily she settled as far away as possible from the few early risers who were already devouring breakfast. Seeing a familiar black brew steaming invitingly she sighed in relief. _Coffee... just what I need._ Spotting McGonagall coming over she almost sighed. _It’s not that I don’t like you, I just really don’t want to talk to anybody._ She thought grumpily. Unable to come up with a reasonable escape plan this early she plastered on a smile and greeted her professor.

“Good morning Professor McGonagall." The grey-haired witch nodded at her. “Good morning Miss Granger. I came to discuss your schedule. Or rather, your unique situation. You are one of three students who accepted our offer to come back to repeat their seventh year.” 

Hermione sighed, _I guessed right then, Malfoy and_ _Zabini_ _are the only so-called eighth years here, other than me I guess..._

The emerald green clad witch settled opposite Hermione with a mild sigh. With a few waves of her wand she raised a mild privacy ward. “I want to know whether you can work with them. Mr Malfoy was declared innocent by the Wizagamot, but he was on the opposite side of the war. Mr Zabini wasn’t involved at all so I suppose that you would have no problem with him?" The professor looked at her with her eyebrow raised questioningly. 

“I can work with both of them. They follow the same electives and core classes, right?" She asked, already mostly sure of the answer. She stirred another sugar cube into her second cup of coffee. Sipping at the caffeine she willed it to work faster. 

“Hermione..." Her head of house sighed, looking at her seriously. “If he makes you at all uncomfortable, we can find another way you know.” She said gently, trying to make sure that the girl was comfortable with her unique situation. She already looked so tired... too thin and fragile. So unlike the young girl she had been when she first came to Hogwarts. 

Hermione’s head jerked up from where she had been gazing into the liquid aimlessly. “It’s fine, professor. Really, he was more trapped in that manor than I ever was. I testified on his behalf, and we talked afterwards. I talked with all of the Malfoys actually." She grimaced briefly. “I can’t say that it wasn’t uncomfortable but all three of them seemed like people who were extremely trapped in their roles.” 

Looking her professor dead in the eye she continued. “They doubted they’d ever be welcomed by the so-called light side... and I agree with them. How many dark witches and wizards did the public drive into Voldemort’s claws because there was nowhere else to go? Dark shouldn’t mean evil." 

Slumping over, already tired and done with the topic she sighed, trying to swallow another spoonful of porridge, despite not feeling hungry in the slightest. _Do we ever learn?_ She thought, almost mournfully. 

Her professor dithered slightly, uncomfortable with the blunt statement of her favourite student. “Yes well... I suppose you have a point." The older woman sighed forlornly. “I don’t even know how to begin to bridge the gap between the Gryffindors and Slytherins, never mind the so-called light and dark sides." 

Hermione grinned, a flat washed out expression. “You don’t have to, there are only kids here, if the houses get along for once, that should solve most of the problems plaguing Wizarding Britain when they grow up.” 

Allowing her spoon to clink against the china, she continued sarcastically. “Well, except the fucked-up incest problems common among the purebloods, but I guess we can’t have it all." 

The professor looked scandalized. “Miss Granger, language!” She snapped out. 

Hermione merely drank the last of her coffee. “I’m not wrong though." She gathered her bookbag. “Can I go now professor?" She asked, completely done with this much social interaction this early in the morning. 

The professor tapped a piece of parchment with her wand. “Here is your schedule, Miss Granger. You can go now.” Her eyes softened slightly. “It’s been good to see you again dear." She had missed her favourite cub. Though she was more of a lioness now. 

Hermione clambered over the bench. “You as well professor.” She echoed, before finally making her getaway. She dissolved the privacy ward with a single finger flick, leaving behind an intrigued professor. Wandless magic was so rare after all... 

* * *

Breathing in deeply when she crossed the threshold to the courtyard, she tried to contain her rising anxiety. _What’s the worst that could happen? There is no way anybody is going to attack me here. The wards have been_ _strengthened_ _to keep the students safe, I am safe..._

Shakily she lit a cigarette. Watching the cherry red glow in the faded light of the early morning sun which was steadily climbing into the sky. 

Hermione tried to breath in the cold air steadily, until she could focus enough of her magic to create a great rising phoenix. It flashed silver grey in the early sunlight when it finally rose high enough to escape the shadows of the courtyard. The magical smoke construct spread its wings before winking out in a swirl of smoke. 

Crunching leaves alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. In a flash she spun around, her magic conjuring a metal knife almost instinctually at the perceived threat. 

A boy with mocha skin, amethyst eyes and a green tie froze carefully. Looking unfazed but never the less remaining still like a statue beneath the razor-sharp edge of her blade. 

“Sorry Miss Granger.” Blaise Zabini said in a low almost cold voice. 

Hermione’s hand trembled minutely, before she dismissed the knife and she hid her trembling hand, a sign of weakness, in her sleeve. “Zabini, Sorry.” She muttered briefly. She resented the loss of control. She was always on edge now. _I am a fucking loaded gun, in a school full of impulsive kids. Why am I here?_

He flashed her an almost boyish grin. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have startled a frontline fighter." He briefly bowed his head. “I am actually here on Draco’s behalf, he wasn’t entirely sure that you would want to see him.” He stared at her with such intensity that it was almost creepy. 

_They’re friends, and he desperately hopes that I don’t hate Malfoy, because I could make his life incredibly difficult, what with being a so-called war heroine._ The thought was impassive, she was just registering facts. There was no satisfaction at the thought that she could easily destroy her childhood tormentor’s life. 

Looking at the embers of the cigarette she dropped when she spun around to face him, she briefly concentrated, vanishing it. 

Zabini continued unasked. “We... are the only three who returned, so if you can’t stand to be in the same room as him, that might be a problem...” He stated carefully, trying to sound out her feelings towards Draco. 

Hermione’s gaze drifted past him. _It’s not even seven o’clock yet, is some time alone too much to ask? What classes do I even have today?_ Zabini was pussyfooting around something which wasn’t even a blip on her radar. Draco Malfoy had never registered as a threat to her in the war, because she had seen him. He’d been a terrified, disillusioned child that day in Malfoy manner, and the first thing he had done was fudge the truth enough that Bellatrix didn’t immediately call Voldemort. Which was probably more important for her survival than all those useless so-called light wixen who had hidden behind their family wards. 

Casually lighting another cigarette by breathing a thin stream of flames over it, a trick she had learned purely for amusement she grinned stoically at his wide eyes. “I already told McGonagall that I have no issues with Draco Malfoy." Inhaling deeply, she continued. “Or you, for that matter.” 

Unconcerned about the awkward way he seemed to almost light up in relief she carefully threaded her magic through the smoke in her lungs. _It would be pretty ironic if I died of lung cancer just after surviving a war._ She grinned briefly at the bleak thought. She had developed a really black sense of humour. Glancing at the amethyst eyes of the awkward young man next to her she felt a brief flash of fondness for him. 

_Just another kid trying to do his best for his friend, he seems so much younger than me.... He is younger._ Feeling inspired by the rare emotion she focused on her magic, trying to see, to visualize what she wanted. While she was breathing out the smoke it became an immense snake, Slytherin’s snake, which circled them once, twice, three times before fading. 

Her own boots now crunching leaves, she turned away. Incinerating what was left of the cigarette in a flash of blue bell flames which she willed to be briefly superheated, she left him standing there. “See you in class Zabini.” 

He watched her retreating back, stunned by the displays of incredibly advanced wordless and perhaps even wandless magic. But maybe even more so by the way she had seemed almost kind in a rough odd way. Even to him, a Slytherin. 

* * *

_Potions..._ Hermione stared at her blank schedule with disinterest, strangely enough it contained only one lesson. _It c_ _ould be a lot worse. Snape won’t change much hopefully. A sycophant as teacher would be unbearable._ Thinking back to the crowd of so-called reporters (vultures) she had spotted from the window the day she had arrived back at Hogwarts via floo she almost shuddered at the idea of being stuck in a room with them. 

She knew that they had been hovering by the gate, looking for her. She had been relieved that she’d had the foresight to floo to the ancient castle instead of taking the Hogwarts Express. 

_Regular teachers won’t have time for an eighth class. I wonder how that will be solved..._ She thought it over before dismissing it from her mind, it wasn’t her problem. 

Checking if she had her potions book on her, she slowly wandered down to Snape’s classroom. 

Sitting down against the wall across the classroom’s closed door she pulled out a mystery novel. _It’s the gardener. The maid is a red herring._ She thought contently, while Crookshanks appeared and curled up in her lap. She flared her magic into a thin layer over her skin to keep herself warm. The once complicated piece of magic came easily now, after so many nights spend on watch in the snow. 

Winding her fingers through Crookshanks’s fur she scritched him under his chin. Repetitively she glided her hand over his spine, the motion soothing to her somewhat frayed nerves. 

The cat purred up a storm under her hand, the bond between them calming her hair trigger instincts down. Crookshanks suddenly started kneading her knee with sharp tiny claws, pulling her attention from the book. Then he jumped down to the stone floor, once more rubbed his head against her palm and trotted off. 

The exact moment that his tail disappeared around the corner Snape appeared out of the classroom. He looked down at her slumped over form. “Come in, Miss Granger." He stated impassively. She clambered to her feet to follow him into the room. 

Hermione sat down at one of the tables near the back, with a clear view of the entire space. She calmly flicked over the page and started reading again. The two waited together in easy silence. 

Zabini and Malfoy came in together. Sticking her book back into her bookbag, Hermione rested her chin on the bridge formed by her hands and stared at the professor. “Your class is going to be different; it is the first time ever that Hogwarts has a parallel class. It is also the smallest class." _Snape has a nice low voice. Soothing._ She thought whimsically. 

“The teachers don’t have time for another class. We all consider you to be mature adults, so none of us are going to be taking the role of policing your actions." He stated calmly. Almost disinterestedly. 

_I wonder where he’s going with this..._ He looked at the three calmly. “I will stop teaching the lower years. I’m only teaching the sixth and the seventh years which will free up my time. I always intended to stop teaching the lower years, and now that Dumbledore is dead it is finally possible. Minerva promptly signed off on it." 

“Which means that in your unique case, I will teach all of your classes. Since I am the only teacher with enough time. It is possible because I happen to have high Newt scores in all of your classes. Luckily you all chose the same electives as I did." Glancing at each of them in turn he continued. “We can provide rooms with a small common room if any of you feel uncomfortable with your old housemates." 

His eyes seemed to linger on the two Slytherins. _I wonder, are they ostracized or something? Why is he looking at them..._ Hermione let it go, she had no more interest in solving puzzles. Not of this kind anyway. 

“I will be teaching you what you should have had the opportunity to learn last year. Nobody will be standing in loco parentis for you since you are all of age. You won’t have a curfew either." He sighed, taking off his robes, flicking them over his chair. Slumping down in his chair he casually rolled up his white sleeves. “I don’t plan to treat this like lessons at all actually. Nobody here needs to be spoon fed the curriculum." 

Hermione sighed. “Nobody has much left to learn, I think. How will you check though?" She asked aloofly. Utterly uninterested in appearing excited for the upcoming year. There was nothing left of the excited little girl she’d been in her first year. 

“Proficiency tests." The professor answered shortly, though not unkind. “Basically, you are going to take last year's Newts and if there are any gaps in your knowledge, we’ll work on fixing it."

“Alright." She stated. “Is there a minimum amount of time we’re legally required to attend classes?" 

Snape nodded. “Yes." He sneered briefly. “Despite the unfortunate end of the Ministry’s last attempt to interfere with Hogwarts, they have stated that all students have a minimum attendance rate of 4 hours per week day. I don’t know what they are hoping to gain from that, but I suppose we will find out soon enough. It could just be another powerplay though. To show that they can still order Hogwarts around.” He looked offended and cross at the mere idea. _Small wonder that this irritates him, Snape has no patience for morons._

He gathered a pile of papers from his desk, then started handing them out. For once he didn’t bother with the more distant action of sending them out magically while he loomed threateningly near the blackboard. These three wouldn’t be intimidated anyway. They hadn't been for years. Quietly he relished in the fact that he didn’t have to be intimidating anymore. He had a choice now. His puppet master was dead. 

“You have three hours, don’t cheat etc." He said, sounding bored. Striding back to his desk he settled down with a book. _A paperback novel of all things._ Hermione noted absently. _I didn’t know he’s a fan of muggle literature._ She’d recognize The Lord of the Rings anywhere. 

* * *

Hermione handed in her stack of papers only 2 hours later, having filled in the Newts for Transfigurations, Potions, Charms, Astronomy, DADA, Herbology, History of Magic, Runes and Arithmancy. _I’m certainly never going to take Muggle Studies_ _again,_ _it’s horrendously demeaning how_ _wixen_ _view muggles and stupidly dangerous how ignorant they are about them._ She thought, mildly indignant and irritated even at the mere memory.

Returning to her seat she fished her novel out of her bag. _I wonder how many books I’ll need for entertainment this year. If we all pass, those four hours are going to need to be filled with something..._

“Miss Granger?" A low voice pulled her out of her book soon after. Snape was standing near her, radiating a sort of non-hostility while remaining at a respectful distance. It was soothing enough that he didn’t even trip her violent instincts even though he startled her slightly. _Then again, he never trips me up..._ “Mr Malfoy and Mr Zabini are finished as well. You’re all allowed to leave now." 

Then he addressed the three of them. “Who wants to move to the smaller rooms near this classroom? You will be taking all of your lessons in the dungeons from now on.” He tacked on. 

Hermione immediately replied. “I want to take you up on that." She stated quietly, voice carefully blank. Not being forced to interact with large groups would keep the strain of being surrounded by people down by a lot. _I despise crowds, so if I can get out of the Gryffindor tower it will save me from a lot of stress. Gryffindors are always so nosy... and loud._

The professor looked mildly surprised but then only nodded mildly. “Very well, I will show you the rooms and then you can move in whenever you wish.” 

Finally Malfoy spoke up for the first time. Carefully glancing at Hermione to check her reaction he stated quietly. “I want to move out of the Slytherin dorms." _Silly boy, if I had any issues with you, I wouldn’t be so passive in your presence._ She thought almost fondly. He had come a long way from the arrogant snot he had been when she’d punched him in their third year. 

In turn, Zabini pitched in as well. “I want to move as well. The peace and quiet will be much appreciated I suspect." He stated calmly. 

“Very well.” The professor said. Heading over to his desk to metaphorically armour up again in his robes before he headed for the door soon after. “Follow me then.” 

Hermione calmly trailed the man who swept ahead of them in a black whirlwind. The walk down the two corridors was calm and silent. Nobody felt the need to chatter, which was incredibly soothing to Hermione’s fraying mind. 

Abruptly Snape stopped in front of a portrait with a black cat on it. “Here we are, the password is paws, but you can reset it together at any point.” Then he said “paws” to the cat and the portrait swung open gently. 

Stepping in with the three students following like ducklings he made a sweeping gesture. “Home sweet home.” He stated almost carelessly. _Well he’s certainly much more relaxed._ Hermione thought almost incredulously. _Though I guess being a spy would weigh incredibly heavy on anyone’s mind._

The room was cosy. With the couches all fluffy and the many carpets, it didn’t look like it could be found in the middle of the dungeons. Two doors branched off on the opposite wall of the entrance. _The dorms for the boys, and the other for the girls. Thank Morgana that I still get a room to myself. Otherwise I might not have left Gryffindor Tower after all._

“It’s nice... cosy even." Zabini stated flatly, without a hint of irony. 

Hermione breathed out, trying to adjust to the idea of living with the two Slytherins for a whole year. “Yeah, it does." She agreed idly, mind spinning wildly. _They seem to be calm and even-tempered now, so I’ll be fine... Right?_

Snape watched the three of them standing around awkwardly in the middle of their new sitting room and then said: “Tomorrow 10 o’clock, in my classroom." Then he swept away abruptly like an overgrown bat, portrait clicking shut behind him. 

* * *

Opening the portrait to the common room, Hermione nearly shrank back from all the eyes suddenly staring at her. “Hermione, Hermione how have you been? How come you aren’t taking your classes with us?" A girl from what used to be the year below hers asked. “We haven’t seen you around much, is the new dorm at the top of the tower yours?" “Where were you this summer? The Daily Prophet ran an article that you were kidnapped, is that true?" 

Questions were being asked rapidly as most of the Gryffindors in the tower converged on their heroine. Hermione stared, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. _Who, why are they all, s-stay away... leave me alone please I c-can’t..._

“I, I have to go...” She managed to say, then she fled up the stairs to her dorm, slamming the door shut behind her. Panicking at the footsteps she could hear, she started throwing up all of the locking charms and wards she knew. She flared her magic into an iron tasting curtain over the door, willing it to be impenetrable. 

Then, she sank to the floor in a shaking mess. _Breathe, just breathe, I have to breath._ She was breathing too fast, on the edge of hyperventilating. Desperately she tried to regulate her breathing pattern. 

It took ages before the wavy-haired brunette calmed down. Looking at her trembling, pale hands she clenched them tightly and stood up. _I have to pack, and I have to leave tonight. If they ambush me again, I can’t be certain I won’t have a flashback. That could be dangerous... For them......._

Hermione was folding her clothes by hand, just for something to do, while her books and knickknacks sorted themselves into her trunk magically. Crookshanks came to wind around her legs, a calming warm sensation that she relished in. “Hey Crooks." She murmured, reaching down to glide a hand over his fluffy fur. 

Sinking down on the bed, she hugged her familiar when he jumped into her lap. The loud rumble in his fluffy body was a balm to her cracked mind. 

“What would I do without you hmm....” Crookshanks merely butted at her cheek, pressing a cold wet nose against her skin in his version of a kiss. Rubbing his head against her cheeks he finally flopped down into her lap, as if to say: well, you won’t have to find out. 

She started meditating, feeling safe enough now that her bonded familiar was keeping watch. Feeling her way through the cracked shields around her mind she sighed. _My panic attacks are creating a lot of hairline fractures... This is going to take ages to_ _repair._ It took her three hours to rebuild her occlumency shields, pouring the calm Crookshanks granted her into the constructs to steady her mind. 

By the time she came up for air, she felt a bit steadier. Waving a hand over her trunk she shrank it before putting it into her beaded bag. Doing one last sweep of the room to make sure she had everything she headed for the door. 

Hermione laid her hand over the enchanted wood, to reabsorb the magic she had cast. Then she disillusioned herself and silenced her footsteps. Pulling open the door as quietly as possible she peered around the wooden frame. 

Spotting nobody there she carefully walked out of the Gryffindor Tower. Her heart was still beating too fast by the time she reached her new common room. 

Opening the door to her own room, she nearly collapsed in sheer relief. It was easy to adjust her temporary ward for her new quarters, and soon she had re-cast it. Then she collapsed into bed. Wrung out by her anxiety. 

* * *

“So, why did you come back to school Miss Granger?" Zabini asked her faux-casually that evening, when both of the Slytherins had moved in as well. 

“Do you mind if I smoke?" Hermione asked, totally ignoring his question. She’d been ticking her nail against the spine of her mystery novel in an increasingly fast pace. She was starting to become somewhat agitated. Being stuck indoors, with no clear way out was already wearing on her. She was feeling trapped. 

“It’s fine by me, if it bothers me, I can just cast an air freshening charm." The Italian wizard stated calmly. 

“Thanks." She stated clearly, relieved. 

Hearing a door open behind her she was twisting around to face the threat before she even made a conscious decision. Spotting Malfoy coming through the door to the boy’s dorm she sighed, sinking back into the couch. Breathing in and out slowly, exercising her magic to create smoke constructs, she tried to calm her racing heart. Absently she conjured an ashtray on the side table with a wave of her hand. Zabini stared somewhat nonplussed at the casual wandless magic. Her focus had to be incredible if she could manage conjuration so easily without a word or wand. 

_Ok, ok, I’m okay, it’s just Malfoy I’m not under attacked. There is no threat..._

When she was felt calm again, she refocused her attention on Zabini, she still hadn’t answered his question after all. “This year is being counted as our year seven. My parents payed for me to attend Hogwarts, so this gives me time to figure out where to go from here." 

Dragging a hand through her mahogany curls she sighed. “Free room and board basically." She said wryly, with a sad smile. 

Malfoy stared at her somewhat puzzled. “Why not stay with your parents while you figure out what you want to do?" He asked gently, not showing any derision for her parents at all. 

Hermione paled, feeling one of the boxes in the back of her mind starting to crumble. The memories that she normally tried to ignore poured out like poison. 

She saw her mom and dad right before she erased herself from their memories. They had looked at her with such love and then when their faces had gone blank she had put them under a compulsion to go to Australia. She saw the gravestones when she finally tracked them down this summer. She hadn’t even been at the funeral. She hadn’t even known they had died at all... 

_My fault, all my fault, I murdered them by taking their choices away. I took their free will. My fault..._ Her hands were woven into her hair like claws, she was biting her lips and rocking herself. “My fault, all my fault..." 

Malfoy looked stricken at the sight. What had happened to reduce the strong witch to this state. He got up and approached her slowly. “Miss Granger..." She didn’t even hear him, just staring into the distance with glassy eyes. “Miss Granger.... Hermione.” 

Her eyes flitted back to his face. Malfoy only sighed lowly. “I thought that might do the trick.” He stated softly. “What’s going on? Did something happen to your parents?" He asked carefully, trying to figure out what set her off. 

“I killed them.” She stated without emotion. They could practically see her rebuilding her occlumency shields, it was like a switch had been flipped, smoothing all emotions from her face. Her body relaxed and she looked like a doll, blank, it was a very eerie sight. Then she got up and walked out of the room. Neither Slytherin saw her again that day. 

* * *

The next day found all three of them in the potion’s classroom again. Snape, dressed casually in a white button down and black pants gazed at them calmly. “You’ve all passed your Newts." 

“We’ll have to discuss how you’re going to fill the four required hours in this classroom. If any of you want some potions lesson at a higher level, I... would not be opposed." The brunet stated with only the slightest hint of reluctance. 

Hermione decided to take initiative. “I want to see if I can create spells that would allow electronics to work around magic." Before the war, before the battles, just... before, Hermione would have expounded on her idea. Going into details and generally looking like a very enthusiastic teacher’s pet. 

She merely looked apathetic now. _It might be a nice distraction; I do miss surfing the web sometimes._ She thought distantly. It didn’t really matter to her, but hopefully keeping busy would keep her nightmares at bay. 

Snape looked at her thoughtfully, then he nodded. “I don’t see why not, you’re allowed to begin training in spell creation now that you have passed your Arithmancy, Runes, Charms and Transfigurations Newt." He paused, before continuing with a sense of irony. “Officially you have not, but you know what I mean." 

He seemed to think it over for a minute. “I would prefer it if you run your calculations by me when you’re ready to move on to spell testing and if you wish, I can consult." He said, which seemed very reasonable to her. _He has already created his own spells, so if I make dangerous mistakes Snape would probably catch them. He’s certainly clever enough that the added angle could benefit me._ She nodded her consent. 

The professor then turned to his two other students. “Do either of you have any plans?" He seemed almost politely interested? Except polite was not a word generally associated with Professor Snape. 

“I want to work on a potion/spell combination to reverse curse scars." Malfoy stated quietly, but confidently. He seemed a little bit nervous to bring up a topic even tangentially related to Snape’s Dark Mark and Hermione’s Mudblood scar, but he was certain that he wanted to aim his efforts towards undoing some of the damage of the war. 

Snape seemed mildly surprised. “Well, I suppose it is a good start to trying to make up for you incredibly moronic blunders." He said bluntly. Which from literally anybody else would have sounded judgemental and almost abusive, but from him just sounded brutally honest and dare she say it... kind. 

Then he turned to Zabini. “Mr Zabini, do you have any revolutionary concepts that you want to work on?" He asked dryly. For their supposed seventh year seemed to be turning into a research team in which he already had significantly more faith than most of his so-called fellow potions masters. 

Snape paused to revel in it for a moment. Faith... so foreign. 

“I don’t know." He grinned. “I don’t have a revolutionary idea lined up yet. I’ll think about it. I wouldn’t want to drag down the level of our class." 

“You’re thinking it through, I’d say we’re already the most intelligent and least frustrating class for the professor. Right?" She asked, cold amber eyes and a very very small though fairly genuine smile staring up at him. 

The man paused, a little surprised by the former teachers pet daring statement. “You all have brains and you use them." He stated dryly, perfectly willing to allow the more relaxed mood his students had set, they had always been some of his favourite students. “That’s like finding unicorns while looking for lame horses." 

This had all four of them grinning. 

* * *

_It’s three o’clock, what am I even doing here?_ Hermione though to herself, a little lost and somewhat confused on how she had even ended up in the courtyard. 

Waving a hand over a fairly large branch, she transfigured it into a comfortable leather chair. Conjuring a blanket to wear like a cape over her night dress she accio’d her book. Maybe she didn’t want to admit it, but she knew why she had ended up outside in the middle of the night. 

Catching her book and conjuring some bluebell flames, she settled in to spend the remainder of the night. _Better set an alarm, I don’t want to be found like this._

Half a chapter later, Crookshanks jumped up into her lap. She was now curled deeply into the wide leather chair, cuddled into her blanket. Sighing she shook of her laser focus. Using the book marker to mark her page, she stared at the moon. Swirling her finger through the heatless flames she watched the blue ghostly flames reform for a moment. 

With Crookshanks in her lap, a warm and reassuring weight she finally, finally felt the anxiety from her nightmare starting to fade. Being outside, not feeling so trapped helped a lot. 

She was just flaring a flame over her index finger to light her cigarette when a dark shape appeared through the early morning mists. 

“Mis Granger." Professor Snape acknowledged her, briefly dipping his head in greeting. She merely nodded, somewhat nonplussed to be found like this, but not all that worried. She did trust him, he had more than proven himself to be an honourable and trust-worthy man. 

“Professor." _I wonder why he is out here so early?_ He transfigured himself a matching chair, a respectable distance away. 

“You don’t seem like the type to smoke." He stated inanely. The statement contained a question, but phrased like this there was no pressure for her to tell him why. 

It was probably the only reason that she did answer that implied question. “Smoking reduces appetite.” 

He frowned, thinking about her peculiar answer, his attention now well and truly caught. “Reduces appetite, why is that a reason to smoke?" 

She glanced at him sideways. _Maybe he isn’t handsome, but he has a strong profile..._ Her answer came out wry. “It helped with the hunger pangs.” 

She curled into herself a little more. _I usually hate talking about_ _what happened during the Horcrux Hunt_ _... but it’s not so bad with Snape, he knows how horrifying_ _war_ _can get._

He hummed in understanding. 

They sat there in silence for a long time, it was only when the light first breached the courtyard that she stood up. She nodded to her professor with a tiny smile, then waved her hand to dispel her magic. She left in a whirlwind of fluffy grey fabric, blanket flaring around her like a cloak. 

* * *

“I will be teaching the sixth and seventh years on Monday morning. So we will have to set up a schedule for your mandatory attendance around that." Like he was prone to doing, Snape just started talking to them when they were all gathered in his classroom without any pleasantries. 

_Some things never change._ Hermione thought almost happily. 

Malfoy spoke up, no longer quite as timid around her. “I vote that we only meet in the afternoons." The Malfoy heir looked wrecked, dark purple rings under his grey eyes and a small tremble in his hands that he didn’t hide quite quick enough. 

Zabini nodded. “I’d like to meet later on in the day as well." He grimaced. “There should be less people in the hallways then." 

At this Snape’s lips twitched into a brief smirk. “That is a solid reason. I don’t see any reason not to follow your ideas, Miss Granger?" He turned to her. 

“Yes, afternoons.” She nodded. She didn’t look so good either. Pale, with wrists still a hair too thin and purple ringed eyes she was starting to resemble a vampire. 

“How about 12 to 4?" The professor suggested. 

“That’s fine, are we using the same classroom as your other classes?" Hermione asked him distractedly, already blocking in her schedule in her planner. 

“No, since you will be taking all your classes with me and will likely start experimenting with projects that requite space for longer than a double period Minerva decided to locate your class in a small classroom near your new dorms.” 

He sighed, looking around the gloomy room. “She approved both of your research ideas. Then she basically laughed at me and said that it would be good for me to relax after assigning us a small private classroom." He said grumpily. “Apparently it has sunshine, unlike this prison cell." 

Hermione hid a smile behind her hand. “That does sound like Professor McGonagall." 

“Well follow me then." He swept out of the potion’s classroom with a flutter of black robes. His long legs eating up the distance quickly. 

Hermione hurried after the three men. _Stupid long-legged apes._ She thought almost resentfully, as the tall Slytherins easily kept up with the professor’s pace. 

Nobody was out of breath when they arrived, but Hermione now had a healthy pink flush on her cheeks. 

Snape opened the door, ushering them in. The room might be in the dungeons, but it didn’t look like it was. The magical windows were wide and tall, bathing the room in soft golden light. 

There were four desks and a group table with plenty of space. There was a bookcase taking up an entire wall and window seats with cosy pillows. 

“Will you all contribute to filling up that bookcase this year?” Hermione asked, almost in a daze. She could already picture herself curled up with a good book near the sunlight. It brought back a smidge of her old love for books, reminding her of better times. 

Malfoy nodded. “Yes, we can all take our own books back at the end of the year, but sharing them is a good idea. A wider pool to draw research from, and extra free entertainment.” 

Zabini looked at the professor. “This is really more of a magical research office then a classroom." He stated. 

Snape nodded. “Yes, you’re only students here because of a technicality. So we won’t treat you like students.” He said, switching to address Hermione halfway through his sentence. “I will relocate the books from my office and some fiction.” 

He tilted his head up to the sun. “I will be marking work from other students here and creating tests for them so if any of you have friends among the student body, I trust you won’t help them cheat." 

Malfoy and Zabini nodded absently, they didn’t have any other friends in Hogwarts. Hermione nodded as well. _If anybody is too stupid to earn a decent grade, I certainly won’t be helping them. I’m done trying to help lazy cretins who only take advantage of me for answers._

Hermione had already opened her bag, pulling several of her miniaturized full book shelves out. “Does anybody have a problem with Dark Art books? I might need them for research.” She asked softly. She flicked her finger to enlarge the shelves back to their natural state then started to put away her fiction books on the open shelves. 

“If none of the books are cursed, I can live with that." Malfoy stated simply, Zabini nodding his agreement. 

Snape looked at her curiously. “Now how did you get your hands on Dark Art books Miss Granger?" 

Hermione glanced back at him, his hair healthy and clean for once. _No protective grease, he must not be planning to brew anything today._ Flicking up a mild privacy barrier she mulled over her answer. 

“Harry wanted nothing to do with the Black Library, but Kreacher just about went insane when he mentioned burning the books. I said that I could take the books.” She shrugged loosely. “Harry was fine with that, he trusts me." 

Snape’s brows slowly rose. “And then you decided that you trust us," he gestured to himself and the two Slytherin students. “with Dark Art books? I doubt Mister Potter would approve.” He almost whispered it to himself, slightly incredulous that the petite witch would just stuff several shelves full of Dark Art books to be left within reach of known Dark wizards. 

“Harry wouldn’t, but then he was raised as a Light wizard who Dumbledore thoroughly turned against the dark." She sighed, peering up at him over the stack of books she was holding. “I’m still working with him on kicking out the last of his ingrained prejudice. He’s well aware of how screwed up he is and is actually making great strides in correcting it himself. He volunteered for therapy.” 

Snape nodded. “That’s good to hear, Mr Potter needs a lot of therapy." He frowned, aggravated. “Poppy, Minerva and I argued for it multiple times. Dumbledore blocked us of course, claiming he was a perfectly well-adjusted young man." 

Hermione frowned. “Yes that sounds like that senile man.” Her lips curled down in an unhappy expression. “I once mentioned to Professor Dumbledore that if wixen don’t start learning more about blending in, that technology would expose us all. He thought my fear was overblown, he might have sided with muggleborns, but he really had no respect for muggles at all. Which is very funny because he certainly thought like a muggle when it comes to dark magic.” 

She shrugged, a surprisingly liquid-like movement. Setting down her stack of books she continued passionately. “Muggles have always associated dark magic with evil. Which I think is very stupid but the church was very thorough in their defamation campaign against magic and dark magic in particular." 

Then she grinned, a vicious expression. “That ignorance towards muggles worked in my favour though, I used a lot of muggle weapons and traps during the war. Wixen only ever scan for magical ambushes.” 

A minute widening of his eyes was the only thing that betrayed Snape’s surprise. “That was you then? There were a lot of deaths on the Dark Lord’s side by bullets, or spell fire when someone got mysteriously stuck on the spot. Bear claws if I’m not mistaken? Tripwires also and I think I spotted a few throwing knives as well?” Then he snorted. “The Death Eaters were convinced that the bullets were magical items. Cursed or enchanted or something." 

Hermione sighed, but her eyes held a tiny mischievous twinkle. “That certainly sounds like the inbred morons. Not that the Order of the Phoenix was any better." 

Glancing at Malfoy the brunette witch sighed. “Purebloods are really alike, dark or light, all of the wixen who grew up magical are really ignorant.” Biting her lip she stared at the dark-eyed man. “The atomic bomb, video cameras, sarin gas and drones. If muggles learn of our existence and they decide we’re a threat, wixen won’t survive.” 

At this Snape pursed his lips. “I know.” He said, nodding in agreement, stunning his female companion in the process. “I grew up in the muggle world, as I’m sure Mr Potter told you. I am well aware of just how precarious our position is. That’s why I offered to help you with your project.” 

He sighed, sitting down at the table, motioning for her to take a seat. “Miss Granger, if you succeed in shielding electronics, maybe we can educate at least the younger generation on the dangers of being caught on camera." 

She sank into the seat opposite from her professor. She sighed, nodding her head. “If we can create spells to wipe video evidence and teach wixen about electronics it should prevent our discovery and teach magicals how to blend into muggle culture.” Rubbing the bridge of her nose with a tired expression she continued. “Even if I would feel a lot better if the whole magical world was aware of the very real threat muggles pose.” 

Snape nodded in agreement. “So would I, but with the current doctrine amongst the pureblood faction it just isn’t likely.” He looked at his two snakes, who had taken over for Hermione in putting her books in the bookcase. “They might be redeemable though." He suggested dryly. 

“They’re well aware that you were a frontline fighter, so if you try to impress upon them the significant danger of muggle weaponry they should listen." He looked at her with a slightly deadpan look. “Should, Draco is still a Malfoy, reformed or not, the arrogance probably isn’t 100% stamped out." 

At this Hermione had to laugh. “I can certainly try, a demonstration of a gun should go a long way." Snape nodded seriously. “It would, Draco should recognize it as one of the number one causes of death on the Dark Lords' side and Zabini, well he is smart enough to be frightened by Draco’s fear." 

Then Snape looked at the slender brunette thoughtfully. “Miss Granger?" She looked at him, raising her eyebrows questioningly. “Yes?” He frowned. “Don’t overdo it. We might be able to contribute to a solution but this is in no way our problem.” His eyes softened. “We’ve both done enough for the Wixen World I think. Don’t run yourself ragged trying to solve all of their problems.” 

Hermione’s cold amber eyes softened. “Thank you.” She stood up, flicked a finger to down the wards and wandered over to the Slytherins. She didn’t say much, just started helping them with the books. 

* * *

“NO!” Hermione woke up in cold sweat. _No_ _no_ _, no please don’t. It hurts..._

Grabbing her fluffy grey blanket and snatching up a pack of cigarettes along with her book she fled the dorms. Almost running outside in her panicked state. Trying to get away from her memories. 

Not even feeling the rough stone pricking at her feet or the cold air biting into her exposed flesh, she hurried to the courtyard. _Sky, I need the sky, I need to breath._

Transfiguring her usual cosy leather chair out of a thick branch she nearly sank into it. Her knees unsteady and collapsing beneath her the second she stopped running. The adrenaline was slowly fading from her system. Leaving her weak and shaky. 

She didn’t even feel the icy trails of tears drawing silver moonlit stripes over her cheeks. She fumbled for her cigarettes with trembling hands. It took her three tries to work up enough focus to actually light one. 

When she heard something move behind her she turned around and attacked before she even realised it. A red curse streak splashed against a solid shield. “Miss Granger.” Snape’s low voice was calm but clear and she snapped out of her panicked state. But the damage was done. 

_Oh god, I attacked a teacher, I attacked someone. Where am I going to go, I can’t stay here, it’s not safe for them. Maybe he deflected the curse but it doesn’t matter, I still attacked him... I can’t be trusted. Where am I going to go_ _now...?_

Hermione was starting to hyperventilate, shaking and curling up into a ball reflexively in her chair. Snape sighed, a low almost mournful sound. “Miss Granger...” it came out low and soothing, like he was trying to approach a wounded feral animal. 

He slowly walked up to her, making sure that she could see him. Her amber eyes followed him, huge and scared in her too pale face. Shaking hands clenched too tightly around her legs, face only halfway visible above her knees. 

Slowly, ever so slowly he reached for her. Setting his hands over hers he gently brushed his magic against her own sparking frightened core. It wasn’t done normally, too intimate outside of close friends and family, but he couldn’t think of any other way to jolt her out of her growing panic. She gasped low in her throat. Feeling the calm and steady magic of someone who she was familiar with, who was marked as safe in her mind. 

She slowly stopped shaking at the steady feeling of safety that his magic was radiating at her. “It’s okay, shh, Miss Granger, it’s okay.” He was holding her hands now, slowly rubbing his thumb over her cold tiny hands. 

Still panicked and not quite in her normal state of mind, she crawled into his lap. Her magic instinctively driving her towards the only source of safety she’d found in years. Snape only sighed, merely starting to drag slender long fingers through her flyaway curls. He hummed a lullaby at her, weaving a shroud of protective magic over her small shivering form and smoothing over the panicked flaring of her magic. 

He picked her up in a deceptively easy move, sitting down in her chair with Hermione curled into him. It took a long time before she calmed down, nose stuck against his collarbone and her hands clasped around one his. Leaning against his chest to listen to the steady beat of his heart. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He finally asked. “I won’t judge you.” He added softly, and she knew it was true. 

“I’m so-sorry. I... I’m going to l-leave. I c-can't be here like this. I’m dangerous.” She stuttered out. _Where am I even going to go, I don’t have a home, no degree, no money... oh Morgana, what am I going to do...._

“No." Snape said simply, as if it was already decided. “You’re not going anywhere." Then he frowned for a second. “And don’t ever apologize for a panic attack. It’s not your fault.” 

“But I attacked you." She said, sounding like the words were torn from her. 

He sighed, familiar with the guilt and the panic. “No you didn’t. Miss Granger, you attacked before you even recognized me, and only because you were having a panic attack. You were only trying to defend yourself.” 

Patting her head very softly he continued. “Don’t worry about it, you did nothing wrong." 

Shimmering amber eyes looked up at him. “S-so I can stay here?" She asked, sounding for all the world like a scared child. 

He immediately nodded. “Yes. I’m not letting you go anywhere until you feel ready to face the world again.” 

She crumbled further into his frame in sheer relief. She trusted him, so it was like he took the burden of her shoulders by simply deciding for her. 

After sitting in comfortable silence for a while, he spotted the blood on her feet. Abruptly standing up he held her in his arms. She squeaked at her new position. He gently set her back down into her chair before he kneeled in front of her. 

Slowly picking up her small foot he magically vanished the dirt and gravel from her wounds before starting the healing process. Then he sat the small appendage back down on the cold grass and engulfed her other foot in his warm hands. When all of her small cuts were healed, he looked up at her stunned face. 

“Miss Granger, I am going to carry you back to your dorm, alright?" She nodded numbly. 

Sweeping her up bridal style, he tucked her blanket more firmly around her small too thin frame and then reversed her transfigured chair. He sat off for the dungeons in silence as she carefully leaned her forehead against him. 

As he slowly pulled his magic back into his core Hermione finally spoke up. “You can just call me Hermione you know." She said. “I think I’d like that, professor." Glancing down at her with a small yet genuine smile, he replied lowly. “You can call me Severus then, Hermione.” 

Ducking her head to hide her smile she finally succumbed to the siren call of sleep. 

* * *

The next night, Hermione headed towards the courtyard again. _I won’t be able to sleep again, so I might as well go and look at the sky. Something soothing to do before the castle comes back to life with all those strangers swarming the halls..._

She’d had another nightmare and even though Crookshanks had calmed her down, sleep had alluded her grasp ever since, like it always did. 

She entered the courtyard and spotted a dark shape. When she cautiously walked closer, she could see that it was Snape. He was slumped over into a chair, face pale and hands clawed into the fabric of his robes, as if he was trying to anchor himself to the present. 

She approached him while making sure to make noise. He didn’t even respond to her at all. Just kept staring at the sky. 

“Severus?" She murmured. “Hey, are you alright?" She asked softly, worried about his nonresponsive state. 

She gently touched his hand, covering his with her smaller one in a soft gesture. He still didn’t respond. Looking up at his face, trying to keep track of his reaction, she tried to touch his frozen magic with her own as softly as possible. 

Almost like weaving the lightest of mist over his ice. She saw him inhale unsteadily. Could feel his magic slowly starting to heat up and break away from its frozen state. 

She just stayed where she was, kneeling in front of him, holding his hand. 

It took hours, but finally, his magic had reverted to the warmer, darkly dense state she had first felt it in, calmly twining and weaving under her own shy touch. 

Finally, he looked at her. “Thank you." He said, looking wrecked, but aware now. 

Hermione merely smiled. “You’re more than welcome Severus." 

Transfiguring her own chair right next to his, she sat down. As inconspicuously as possible she kept holding his hand. Lighting a cigarette with the other, she stared at the sky. _His magic still doesn’t flow as smoothly as it should, but he seems calm now... I wonder what that was all about, panic attack? Catatonic? Dissociation?_

It was only when the sun once more breached the, their, courtyard that they got up. By mutual unspoken agreement they used the walk back down to the dungeons to gradually untwine their magic. He let go of her warm hand only when they absolutely had to part and nodded gratefully. Then he disappeared into another corridor. 

* * *

It was only a few hours later that Hermione stumbled her way into parts of her uniform. Dragging on knee length socks, a black skirt and a white long-sleeved blouse she called it done. Still tired and cold from her usual nightmares, she only hesitated a second before grabbing her fluffy blanket as well. _I don’t care if Malfoy and_ _Zabini_ _see me like this. They won't judge me... Right?_

Walking into the common room she sighed, “Tempus.” _It’s 11:30, I could go for lunch, but I don’t think I can handle being in the Great Hall..._ she ignored the fact that she had skipped dinner the night before and breakfast by sleeping through it. Hunger wasn’t really something she could feel anymore. 

She plopped down into a chair, hiding under the blanket until only a sliver of her face was even visible as she curled up into a tiny ball. _I am so fucking tired..._ She thought, trying to keep her eyes open. 

When only a few minutes later Malfoy sank down in the chair opposite hers. Instead of judging her though, he only sighed at the sight she made. Conjuring a blanket, he followed her example and also curled up in a small ball hidden under fluffy fabric. “You know what...” he started tiredly. “This is strangely soothing. It’s not like a fluffy blanket ever fixed anything but it still makes me feel a little better.” _Draco is kinder now..._

Hermione laughed a little. Then she stated, in a slightly hoarse voice. “Yeah, I know. It definitely shouldn’t help, but it really does.” She paused for a second, then stated almost cheerfully. “Even if we do look really silly." 

Zabini entered the room after some time, which they had simply spent in silence, both trying to hold it together after their nightmares. 

He only sighed. “Well let’s go then, I suppose I’m escorting two people today." He said, holding out his arms as if he was a gentleman escorting pureblood ladies to a ball. 

He looked surprised when Hermione rolled to her feet and really did take his offered arm. Flicking her fingers, she sent her blanket back to her room. “I’m ready." _He was neutral, he won’t_ _harm me..._ She tightened her grip slightly _. He’s so warm... Why did I take his arm? Merely because he offered? Am I really so touch starved?_

Malfoy sighed, then he vanished his blanket and got up, pasting a neutral expression on his face. “Let’s go. The sooner we leave, the sooner this day will be over." He stated grumpily. 

Hermione hummed thoughtfully. “We’re all impressively anti-social now a days." She said quietly. Zabini laughed, curling a warm hand over her cold fingers. “That we are. Because people are awful.” Hermione thought it over. All of them had avoided leaving their shared rooms. She hadn’t quite expected the Slytherins to be as reclusive as she was. _Then again Malfoy especially was in the thick of the war, it only makes sense that he also became reclusive and withdrawn. Trauma and ignorant_ _wixen_ _is a really dangerous and painful combination._

Malfoy barked out a dry laugh. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with me, that the public is being awful to you." He stated self-deprecatingly, as they left the dorms. 

Hermione took his hand, squeezing it gently. “No no, Zabini is right, it really is just because the general wixen public is stupid.” She looked at him with a gentle expression. “Forgive yourself Malfoy, you did your best in a really fucked up situation." 

Malfoy looked at her in wonder, like nobody had ever told him that he did well. 

“Hermione!" A voice suddenly shouted from behind her, causing her to twist around in Zabini’s hold. Spotting the youngest redhead of the Weasley clan she stared at the girl’s furious face. “What the fuck are you doing with them?” Ginny shouted angrily. 

Hermione nearly trembled at the raised voice and the waves of violent magic that the redhead was emitting. _No, no don’t hurt me._

Clenching her hands, nails biting into her palms, she pulled on her occlumency. Slamming down shields around her mind to strangle the rising panic. “They’re are my classmates; we are going to our classroom.” She stated evenly. 

“They don’t fucking belong here.” The incredibly angry girl screamed, causing Malfoy to flinch almost imperceptibly. “And you were just casually going along with them. Touching them, talking to them, as if they aren’t horrible monsters." Her eyes were almost black with rage. 

The redheaded slender girl waved her wand, attacking the two Slytherins with a curse that, if it hit, would break bones. She didn’t even care that Hermione was standing there, too furious and upset to make sure she didn’t hurt her own friend. 

Zabini didn’t even think about it, he spun around to shield the girl on his arm. She didn’t deserve this, he saw her white, scared face and reacted on instinct. The dark purple streak of light slammed into him, and his vision whited out. “NNn..." He groaned out, ribs breaking under the malevolent magic. 

Hermione stared, wide eyed, at the kind amethyst eyes looking at her. Zabini slowly started to collapse, already falling unconscious from the pain. _No_ _no_ _nooo_ _, no this isn’t happening. It was supposed to be safe here. The war is supposed to be over..._ Her mental shields were crack, crack, cracking under the pressure of her fear... 

Catching the young man who had selflessly shielded her in her arms, she sank to her knees, she felt a jarring sensation as her knees hit the ground. She could feel her shields crumbling completely under the onslaught of her panic. Hermione stared at Ginny over Zabini’s limp body, the girl’s pretty face contorted by hate. _I don’t even recognize her...._

Zabini was a warm dead weight in her lap. She stared at the girl who was her friend... Ginny was still attacking, an orange curse flying over her head, sparking in her hair. It only missed her because she had collapsed to the floor. 

Malfoy stepped between them cutting of her view of the redhead, he looked stricken, but determined now. He would protect these two, these precious people who still believed in him, if it was the last thing he did. 

He raised a solid shield, weathering the attacks from the witch stoically. He couldn’t attack her without violating the Wizagamots terms, and didn’t even really want to, because he could see the grief in the set of her eyes. The way her sadness was written in the corners of her mouth. 

If it was just him, he might have let her do whatever she wanted... 

Snape stormed into the hallway. With a wave of his hand, Ginny’s wand was yanked from her hand. Catching the piece of wood, he rounded on the teenager, looking furious. 

“What in the blazes of hell is going on here?” The tall dark-haired man spit out. “Why were you attacking other students?” He nearly hissed at the slowly paling redhead. Then he completely ignored her to check that Zabini was still breathing and not in immediate danger. 

When he was satisfied that the Slytherin was as stable as he was going to get with his ribs broken, he glanced around the corridor. “Leave." He barked at the students who were still hanging around, stunned by the awful spectacle. 

Scared off by the intimidating man, who seemed to be enraged, they all fled. Leaving Hermione, Zabini, Malfoy and Ginny as the only ones left to face Snape’s wrath. 

Still too angry to back down though, the redhead fiercely bit out. “They don’t belong here, they should be in fucking Azkaban.” 

Snape was nearly apoplectic with rage. “Ah, so you think you know better than Miss Granger, who was actually held in Malfoy Manor and the Wizagamot who overheard him and examined his memories from every angle and decided to take justice into your own hands?” He said silkily, only sounding more dangerous for it. 

Ginny, only now becoming aware of just how much trouble she was in started trembling. Snape merely narrowed his eyes. “Do you know who that reminds me off, Miss Weasley?" He asked, sounding almost gentle, but she couldn’t mistake the question for being benign because of the way his dark eyes glinted with fury. 

“N-no..." The girl stuttered out. Snape almost glided closer to the stricken teen. “You remind me of Tom Riddle.” He stated softly, well aware of the cruelty he was committing, but needing to make this clear to the redhead once and for all, before she crossed a line she could never come back from. “He was very fond of prioritising his own judgement, his own feelings over everybody else as well.” 

“I’m nothing like him!” The redhead cried out. Snape merely gazed at her passively. “No, you’re not." He said. “But he liked hurting others and you wanted to make Draco suffer." He could see her turning even paler at the comparison. Good. “You looked a lot like him, when you were casting curses at Draco. Riddle didn’t care if he hurt others in his rage either, just like you don’t seem to care who you were hurting in the process." 

He sighed. “I am going to assign you therapy and detentions, instead of expelling you.” He stated. “Because I am well aware of what you went through, of how much you lost in the war.” Then his eyes hardened again. “But Miss Weasley," he said causing the relieved redhead to tense up again. “Make no mistake, if you ever attack somebody again in this school, I will see to it that you are persecuted by the full extent of the law. This is your only warning." 

The redhead nodded hastily, taking her wand from Snape before fleeing from his intimidating form. 

He spun on his heels, heading over to Hermione and Zabini. Malfoy was kneeling over the two, trying to heal the Italian. 

“Take Mr Zabini to the Hospital Wing, Draco." He said softly, weaving a stasis spell over the mocha skinned young man. The blond hastily nodded, levitating him and hurrying off. 

Hermione was still kneeling on the cold stone floor, frozen. Her eyes were glazed over and her hands were trembling. Snape kneeled in front of her. “Hermione..." He said softly, trying to get her attention. She only started shaking harder. “Hey, shh, it’s okay." He said, trying to calm the panicking Gryffindor. 

“I c-can't, I can’t do this. This can’t be happening. I don’t want to be here..." She whispered. _She terrifies me..._

Winding her hands into her hair, she started pulling on the curls roughly, trying to anchor herself to the present moment. The pain was grounding, but she had no control over it, it didn’t even feel like she was the one in her body anymore. 

Snape gazed at the stricken young woman. He reached out, trying to gently uncurl her hands from where she had clawed them into her hair. “Hey no, you will be alright, you’ll be okay." He continued talking to her, trying to calm her down. Finally, when he flared gentle protective magic over her shivering form she collapsed forward, into his kneeling frame. 

She started sobbing as he wound strong arms around her. She became nearly hysterical and was crying her eyes out, unable to keep it in anymore. Snape only swept the young woman up into his arms. He carried her back to the dorms when she finally fell unconscious. Body giving way under the strain now that she felt safe. 

* * *

Hermione shot up from her bed, already starting to breath faster. _How could this happen, why would she do that... why?!!!!_ Silver tears were starting to caress her cheeks again. She shivered and cried helplessly, taken back to the day Bellatrix had carved the slur into her arm. Ginny had looked just like her... A pretty face, twisted by hate. Her magic had been so harsh... so hateful. 

“No, no please, no don’t..." She mumbled to herself, completely caught in a flashback. Body twisting into the sheets. Snape heard her cry out from the common room. His lips curled down, face sad. He stood up and opened the door to her room. 

He gazed at the young woman sadly, who was crying and pleading. She was caught in her own sheets, wide open eyes staring blindly at the ceiling. He slowly sat down beside her, setting a cool hand over her warm forehead. Carefully he wound her up in his magic. Gossamer thin weavings of his slowly pooling warm magic caressed her skin. 

It felt like an eternity passed before Hermione became aware again. Feeling warm soft magic dancing over her skin, intimately twining through her own magic was so calming. She stared at her ceiling, feeling a warm hand wrapped around hers. She swallowed uneasily, feeling vulnerable and out of it. 

“Sorry..." She whispered, mortified to be caught like this by Snape. “Don’t apologize Hermione." He said gently, his magic whispering over her skin. “This isn’t on you. The generation before mine failed us all by not taking out Riddle decades ago." 

“But I keep freaking out and panicking." She said. Tightening her grip on his hand reflexively. “You fought like a soldier in a war and you had no training to deal with it." Snape said calmly. “Give yourself time to deal with that." 

“I... I know logically that I’m not doing anything wrong, that this is trauma. But it doesn’t feel like it. I feel like a failure." She whispered, like she was confessing a secret. “I know." Snape replied lowly. “But you’re doing amazing. You're not lashing out, or hurting others, or nearly killing yourself. Right now, this fresh from so many battles and traumatic events, that’s really all we can ask. Give yourself time to adjust. Soldiers returning from an active warfront almost always need help to readjust to civilian life you know. So, I’m telling you, you are incredible." 

She felt silent tears streaking down her temples at the kind words. “Thank you, Severus." 

Neither mentioned the magical tangle they had made of themselves; it was precious, fragile and new. It felt like safety, home. Neither wanted to draw the others attention to it, for fear of losing that feeling. 

* * *

Hermione spotted Ginny at exactly the same time as the redhead saw her. She could see her opening her mouth to say something and all she wanted was to flee. Maybe the girl was her friend, but the memory of flaring magic carrying hate, eating like acid at her own magical aura burned harsher than her fond memories could sooth. 

On instinct she turned around and fled. She just started running, spreading her magic behind her like a sonar, to warn of incoming spells. It had been a wartime tactic of hers and the fact that she felt like she needed it right now crushed her. _I am not being hunted, slow down, you’re okay. It’s just Ginny, she won’t kill you..._

Hermione tried to tell herself, but it didn’t help. She could feel fear clawing at her occlumency shields. Spotting the stairs at the end of the dungeons she cycled her magic through her limbs to make the jump up to the ground floor. 

Seeing Snape coming out of the Great Hall the memory of his magic and steady presence came to her and she ran straight to his side. Magic started running higher and increasingly taking over whilst her mind was being assaulted by her fear and memories. 

Spinning around to hide behind his back she leaned her forehead against his shoulder blade and threaded her fingers into the long black robe he always wore. Hesitantly her magic reached out in thin ribbons, brushing against his warm magical core, as if unsure of its welcome. 

Snape was somewhat shocked by Hermione’s uncharacteristic behaviour. When he felt the wavering strands of her magic reaching out, he reached for her. Weaving his own magic through the thin strands, he wove a temporary magical bond that anchored her back to the present moment. Providing a sense of stability and safety so she could find her feet again. 

The brunet male was about to ask why she was clinging to him, when he spotted Miss Weasley rushing in their direction. Hermione’s hands tightened their hold on his clothes. She was shaking and her magic was starting to simmer, like fear churning beneath the surface of a deceptively still ocean. 

Turning to glare at the approaching redhead he got a petty sense of satisfaction when she turned away with a disappointed look on her face. He reached a hand behind himself, taking hold of her hand and tugging her away from the doors of the Great Hall. 

Guiding her to the courtyard, he transfigured a chair and easily tugged the girl down into his lap. Winding his arms around her waist he sighed, setting his chin atop her head. “What am I going to do with you, Hermione...." 

She shivered, curling deeper into his larger frame. “I’m sorry, I just panicked. The memory of her attacking Zabini and Malfoy and... and me, just burned, and I couldn’t trust her when she came towards me..." 

He merely brushed his magic over hers again. “That’s not on you. If you don’t want to talk to her, you certainly don’t have to. Miss Weasley needs to learn that her behaviour has consequences. Nobody can tell you that you need to talk to her." 

Hermione shivered, sad and lost. “Thank you." She mumbled out. _Is that really okay? Can I just avoid her, isn’t she my friend? Am I a horrible person if I do avoid her?_

* * *

Knocking hesitantly on Malfoy and Zabini’s door Hermione anxiously chewed her lip. Zabini had been healed, after spending a week in the hospital wing he was declared healthy by Madam Pomphrey and had finally returned to their dorm. 

“Come on in." A low voice answered. Gently she opened up the door, peeking around the corner. “Hey Zabini. I came to see how you are doing, and to apologize." Hermione looked down at her fingers, nervously twiddling the slim digits. _All my fault, I should have defended him... He got hurt because of me, I should have easily been able to stop an attack like that. Freezing up because it was Ginny is no excuse._

Zabini stared at her thin form in front of him, nonplussed. “Whatever for? It’s not like you broke my ribs." He stated calmly. 

“I should have defended you, freezing up just because she was my friend is no excuse." His eyebrows rose over incredulous purple eyes. “Sure it is, first of all you are under no obligation to protect anybody. Second of all, that is a really good reason to freeze. Granger, anybody would be shocked by a friend completely losing it. Don’t be so hard on yourself." 

_Is it really that simple? Am I just being_ _too_ _hard on myself?_

She stared at him uncomprehendingly. The idea that this wasn’t on her was hard to believe. “Now then, we have class soon, do you want to accompany me?" The Italian asked lightly. “Keep in mind that I won’t blame you if you decline, I understand if you don’t want to be seen with us again. This wasn’t a one off." 

“What?" Hermione blurted out. “Is it normal for you to be attacked?" He merely nodded. “That’s wrong. Why hasn’t anybody done something about this?" She asked, indignantly, a spark of her old fire resurfacing at the sheer injustice. “Professor Snape tries of course, but I believe that the rest of the Professors think it is our own fault. Nobody cares much for Slytherins and they care even less for known Dark Wizards." He stated calmly. Like this was a simple fact of life he had long since accepted. 

“That’s..." Hermione was speechless for a moment. “Dark Magic isn’t by its nature wrong, are they confusing Dark Magic for Black Magic?" _Why is common sense so rare in the_ _Wixen_ _World? Does magic excuse them from learning logic or something? I would have thought that evolution would have prevented this much stupidity..._

Zabini stared at her confused, Hermione was a known Light witch after all. “Huh?" He said. “You mean that you don’t find Dark Magic wrong and immoral and dangerous?" He asked her, stunned by the implications. 

She stared up at him, confused. “Of course not. Dark Magic is just like Light Magic. I could kill someone with a light spell, or heal with a dark spell." Then she raised a mocking eyebrow. “Actually, the most well-known dark spell is technically a light spell." 

“What?!" Zabini blurted out. 

“I can tell you the story later, but we have to go now. To answer your earlier question, yes, I am coming with you." Muttering under her breath as she started walking towards the door. “Discrimination based on Dark Magic, hah, idiots. If the Wixen World creates a new civil war with this stupidity I am going on vacation, whilst leaving them all here to die." _There is no way that I could survive another war without going insane..._

Zabini ended up hurrying after her angrily stomping form. He was utterly shocked by her vehement defence of Dark Magic. 

* * *

“So, your defence of Dark Magic. Aren’t you a Light witch, Granger?" Zabini prodded semi-casually when all three Slytherins and the one Gryffindor amongst them had settled into their chairs with a cup of tea. 

“Common misconception, I’m a Grey witch.” Hermione stated casually. _Light, grey or dark what does it matter at all..._

Malfoy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. “What?! But you’re hailed as the strongest Light witch of the century.” 

“Yes well, we all know just how retarded Magical Britain is.” Hermione said dryly. 

“The Black Family Library was really informative. Why don’t they teach about magical cores at Hogwarts? Political light and dark are being seen as equivalent to magical cores. But that’s wrong right? Dark Grey and Light are just natural magical leanings right?” She directed her question to Snape. 

He sighed, idly stirring sugar into his tea. “Dark magic is just a normal affinity. Like water or fire. But Dumbledore was against Dark Magic, he thought it was wrong and dangerous. He changed the curriculum; he was a War Hero so everybody believed him. It didn’t help that Grindelwald was a Dark wizard, and that he used a lot of devastating dark magic during the war. Everyone then conveniently forgot the light magic used to destroy entire sections of his army in one fell swoop." 

“Just when I think I’ve seen the last of that man’s mistakes something new comes up.” Hermione said bitterly. “So, Dumbledore screwed over half of the Wixen World then. And his prejudice still lingers.” 

“Yes, the whole British Wixen World is still prejudiced against Dark Magic. Which is stupid, you might as well be prejudiced against the night. Both are naturally occurring and there is nothing wrong with either." Malfoy muttered, irritated. _That would require logical thinking... That’s never going to happen..._

Zabini sighed. “At least half the problem is that Black magic is being shoved under the label dark. In Italy Black magic is a crime and a very distinct branch of magic. It’s seen as completely different from dark, which is commonly accepted." 

“I think I might move to Italy after graduation then.” Hermione said, only half joking. “I feel no calling to clean up Britain. It’s been hard enough trying to re-educate Harry. It’s not his fault, but his kneejerk prejudice is irritating. He tries very hard though. Unlike the rest of Britain.” She said, leaning back against the chair. 

“Lily was a Grey Witch and James was Dark.” Hermione snorted. “That changed his tune right quick. They fought on the so-called light side after all. After that he started reading up on it. He knows better now. Still won’t admit his own affinity though.” She pouted. “He’s just teasing me now.” 

Malfoy looked shocked. “The things you learn...” 

Snape stared at the self-professed Grey witch. “You learned all of this on your own, from the Black library, during a war?” He seemed a little incredulous. 

“It is a good library.” Hermione said, a little defensively. 

Snape laughed, a low warm sound. “I’m just shocked and impressed, you managed to overcome the prejudice rife in the Wixen World, during a war, alone, just by reading a couple of books.” 

Hermione flushed, a soft pink colour. “Thanks, I guess..." 

* * *

Hermione shot up from her bed. _No, no please..._ Still half caught in her nightmare, she scrambled for her blanket and her shoes. She wandered to the courtyard. When she saw Snape already present, she drifted towards him only half aware, mind still caught in flashes of memories. 

When her magic subconsciously brushed against his, familiar and soft, he seemed to snap out of his daze. Instinctively his magic reached for her, and his body followed. 

His warm dark magic twined around her wilder, less dense magic, her magic felt like a ghost impression of the deep currents of the ocean. Feeling their magic twining together in thick bonds Hermione slumped over against him, tension draining from her taught form. 

“Severus..." She whispered eventually. “What are we doing? We’re not family, we’re not even friends, so why does this come so easily, and feel so safe?" She asked, referring to their magical melding. 

He sighed, dragging a hand through his own hair. “I have no idea. It’s never been this easy.” Pressing a nose into her curls, he breathed in her calming scent. “You are half my age, it is strange that this feels like a meeting between equals.” 

Hermione sighed. “No I’m not. You are thirty-six right? I’m eleven years younger than you.” 

Snape looked at her, surprised. “Twenty-five? How did that happen. You were born roughly a year before Mister Potter right? Then you should be turning nineteen soon.” 

Hermione bit her lip. “Time-travel. My third year I had a time turner and I lived it twice. So I aged more rapidly. The trace sticks to underage magical signatures, so it was great that I came of age before we ever left on the Horcrux Hunt.” 

Snape sighed, settling an arm around her waist. “That only explains a year, two if you were admitted late because of your birthday. How come you are six years older than the rest of your year mates?” He asked gently. 

“We broke into the Ministry during our fifth year. The time-room was destroyed. I snatched the last unbroken time-turner.” She whispered. “I don’t even know why I did that, I just knew I couldn't leave it there.” 

“I don’t even want to imagine what Riddle would have done with a time-turner." Snape muttered. 

“It’s hard sometimes. I’m so much older than my friends now. The war was so long for me, Molly kept insisting that I stay with the Weasleys. That everything would be fine and that I was always welcome there. I think she hoped that I would take up with Ron or something.” 

She sighed. “We were only ever friends, and now he and Harry are more like my kid brothers or something. They are just so... immature. I feel so detached from everybody now.” 

Snape didn’t say anything. Didn’t make any attempts to smooth it all over. Her predicament was difficult, and it wouldn’t ever be magically okay. She had sacrificed her own wellbeing and the last vestiges of her childhood to the war. 

“I’m only here because I have nothing else in my life. Hogwarts was all I ever knew.” Snape said. “What a pair we make, a woman out of time and a man out of place. Maybe that is why our magic pools together so easily. Outcasts, the both us.” 

Hermione sighed against him. “That makes sense, magic has always been half intent. So, if our feelings echo closely, maybe that is why we have such an easy resonance.” Clenching one hand into his robes she continued, half formed thoughts spilling out between them. The magical theory came easily to both, and the discussion was one held between equals and maybe tentative friends. 


	2. Chapter Two

“Coffee? Please?” Hermione mumbled, slumped over the table in their classroom/office. Zabini sighed, looking at her fondly. Being off-age, he had access to his House-elves. Ordering a cup of coffee for her, he gently settled the steaming mug on the table near her when his elf popped back in. 

When she lifted her head to stare at the ceramic cup he patted her gently on the head, making sure she could see him coming. “Don’t you ever go to the Great Hall in the morning?” He asked idly, aware that there was coffee served during breakfast. 

She inhaled her coffee greedily. “No, too many people." She stated simply. 

Malfoy stared at them almost vacantly. He still didn’t sleep well. Purple ringed eyes tried to focus on the by now familiar tableau of Hermione inhaling coffee. “Where do you get your food from then?" He mumbled the question from where he was leaning back against the chair tiredly. 

“Kitchens mostly.” Hermione said, electing to hide the fact that she simply skipped a lot of meals. 

Snape wandered in, a full fifteen minutes after the official start of their class. Grumpily he stalked towards their table and sat down in the chair next to Hermione. Without even thinking about it, she looped a thin strand of magic around his wrist. He sighed, settling deeper into his chair. 

“The ministry wants to come and question some of my Slytherins." He snarled out. “The reasons are bullshit, they basically boil down to: they are dark wixen and can’t be trusted." He huffed, then nodded at Zabini when the young man handed him his own cup of coffee. 

“Thanks." He said roughly. “Minerva smacked them down of course, and reminded them very firmly that Hogwarts was sovereign ground, and that if they didn’t back the fuck off that she would go public about Umbridge’s reign of terror, since she was using the ministries authority.” 

He still looked murderous. “Still, it’s already starting, the anti-dark wixen sentiment is already building. It’s so frustrating. Slytherins are already being targeted again..." Now he simply looked sad. “And I can’t protect them." 

Hermione merely sighed, looping another brush of cool ocean thread around his wrist. He shivered, then sank into the soft chair a little more, slender body relaxing against the soft fabric. 

“There is nothing we can do.” She stated calmly. “If Wixen Britain wants another uprising from the dark leaning wixen so bad, they can have it.” _Australia is out, but I could move to New Zealand or Canada I suppose. Or France. Anywhere but Britain will do if it comes to another uprising._

Then she looked at the man thoughtfully. “Also, that is not true, you do protect them. Everybody fears the wrath of the Dungeon Bat too much to bully the Slytherins too badly." 

Malfoy grinned smugly, a spark of his old arrogant-self peeking through. “That’s true, Professor, you’ve always protected us. We could always come to you, don’t underestimate how much that helped us.” 

“I guess..." He admitted somewhat unwillingly. 

For a moment they were all silent, simply sipping from their beverages and enjoying the quiet. 

Malfoy spoke up again a little later. “I think I understand the spell component of the charm/potion I want to design fairly well, but the potion just isn’t coming together, do any of you have any idea why it won’t stabilise?" 

Hermione perked up, potions puzzles were always a good mental exercise. “Do you have an ingredient list, as well as the steps?" She asked immediately, intrigued by the complex magic he was trying to design. 

Snape looked at the excited woman next to him, glad to see her enthusiasm for learning slowly being revived inside the safety of their classroom. 

The Malfoy heir grunted, “yeah, here.” He shoved a pile of parchment to her side of the table. Hermione spread the sheets out, automatically arranging them so that the Professor could see them as well. 

Hermione went over the chemical composition of the ingredients in her head. Trailing a finger over the steps she tried to keep track of the chemical balance of the potion through the stages. Snape was also looking over the list. 

“I think the nightshade makes the whole potion unstable, but you need it for burning out the old magic..." Hermione said. Snape picked up where she left off. “That’s right, try to find a neutralising agent that won’t interfere or bond with any other ingredients. That should solve the meltdown issue, though you will still have to figure out the order in which to brew." 

Zabini sighed, looked at the three who were bent over the potion. Picking up a book on charms, his own favourite subject, he left them to it. If anybody could create a potion like that, it would be them. 

* * *

Hermione wasn’t sleeping, again. Staring at the ceiling, wondering what to do, who to be. Where to go... She didn’t know. _Who am I? Who do I want to be? I’m older than I should be, a jaded relic of a war already ended._

Sighing she rolled out of bed, in only a thin nightdress she wandered through the empty castle. She didn’t feel the cold stone biting at the soles of her feet, she didn’t feel the cold at all as the night air streamed past her bare skin. 

It wasn’t long before she came across Snape, he was staring out of the window. Fully dressed in his usual dark robes. At her approach he turned around. “What are you doing outside of your dorm dressed like this Hermione?” He asked gently. 

She stared at his face, the kindness that nobody expected from him, but given to her freely. She couldn’t talk even if she wanted to. With all her fears whirling through her mind her voice was strangled by the uncertainty.

Empty eyes stared up at him. Dark purple etched under her eyes, bloody feet, a thin white dress. She looked like a specter. 

Picking her up bridal style, he gently weaved warm dark syrup-like magic through her own ocean waves. “I can’t help you find a way in this. But you don’t need my help, you just need support. You are one the strongest people I’ve ever known." He stated calmly. 

Transfiguring the by now familiar construct in the courtyard where they met most nights he sat down. Automatically she curled up into a small ball. Wrapping warm hands around her bloody feet he healed the wounds she tended to inflict on herself when she drifted. 

Combing her curls away from her face he started talking randomly about his day, about his thoughts. She merely listened quietly, soothed by his proximity and his warm magic sheltering her from the world. 

Pulling herself together was always hard, it was hard to find the motivation to act like a person, instead of the empty shell she sometimes seemed to become. 

Eventually she spoke. “Thank you..." She whispered, voice gritty. He simply nodded. “Anytime.” 

* * *

It had been a couple of weeks since she had last seen Harry, but she was glad for his presence. He was like her brother, and she considered him family. Maybe even her only family now. 

“Hey." She said, quietly happy. “How is auror training going?” They were ensconced in a booth in the back of the Three Broomsticks. Hiding from reporters and fans alike. Hermione had raised a simple misdirection ward as soon as she had sat down. 

Harry smiled, looking lighter than she had ever seen him. Free from the war and the horcrux that had festered in his scar he was like a new man. 

“It’s been great, everything makes so much sense, and by now they all treat me like a normal person." He seemed to almost shine with happiness. 

Then he frowned, looking at her searchingly. “Ginny wrote to me." Hermione could feel her face freeze, she still hadn’t spoken to her... friend? Old friend? Didn’t even know if she ever wanted to again. “She said you’ve been spending all of your time with Slytherins? She mentioned something about an incident and that she wanted to talk to you but that you were avoiding her?” 

Harry’s gentle green eyes looked at her without judgement. “What’s going on Mione?” He asked, trying to get her side of the story. 

“They’re my classmates.” She eventually started with that, as if trying to justify herself. “Zabini and Malfoy were the only ones to return you know." Swirling the water she had ordered around in her glass she sighed. “Snape teaches all of our lessons, he was the only teacher with room in his schedule, since he no longer teaches below sixth year." 

Harry sighed as well. “Ginny got mad because you were spending time with them huh? She’s always had an explosive temper and she hates them. She associates them with Voldemort I think.” Distractedly dragging a hand through his hair, he frowned. 

He looked at her with soft eyes, kind eyes. “So, what happened? I’m assuming something did if you’re avoiding her.” 

Hermione tentatively reached out to him with her magic. Ocean mingled easily with the sky, with the freedom that Harry had always radiated. Breathing out from where she had reflexively been holding her breath she tried to calm down. 

“She attacked us in the corridor just outside the potions classroom. She cast a bone breaking curse at Zabini, but I was standing with him and he just...” Tears started trickling down her cheeks again. She furiously wiped them away. “He spun us around and took Ginny’s curse in the back to protect me because I froze up.” 

Wide teary eyes looked at him sadly, with a soulful gaze. “She looked so much like Bellatrix Harry, a pretty witch radiating hatred so strong that her magical aura was like acid to mine. It hurts... she was supposed to be my friend, not a reminder of being tortured, but I can’t stand seeing her face anymore I just panic.” 

“She broke his ribs, even though he was never even involved in the war. Malfoy had to protect us because I just froze up, terrified. He stepped up to shield us." Hermine couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “He can’t even defend himself because of the Wizagamot’s ruling so he just kept shielding us until Severus came." 

Harry gently reached out to hold her hand. He squeezed it softly. “She was so angry Harry, so angry... She hated them so much, just for the patch on their uniform. How could she do that... that’s like hating all Werewolves for Greyback’s actions, or hating all purebloods because most ended up on Voldemort’s side...” 

Harry sighed, looking at his best friend who was so upset. “I don’t know Mione. I don’t know. She was raised to hate them but I hoped that she could be better. I think she understands how wrong her actions were, because she wrote about what Snape said, and it terrifies her to be anything like Riddle.” 

Harry smiled at her, crooked and kind. “That man sure knows how to push her buttons, but that’s good I think. She needs to learn to see people for people and to be kinder, because otherwise she really will..." He swallowed uneasily. “Someday she really might do something that can’t be undone. Ever.” 

Hermione sighed, trying to dry her tears. “Yeah, but I can’t talk to her like this. I hope she understands but I really can’t... When I saw her come my way I felt like I was being hunted. She sets off every trigger I have. It’s not that I think she is terrible, I understand that she’s grieving and angry. She just, she terrifies me now..." 

Harry nodded. “I know, I’ll talk to her, tell her to back off. Take all the time you need Mione. I hope you can patch up your friendship with Gin someday, but for now you just focus on healing okay.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

Then he switched the topic abruptly. “So Severus huh?" He asked mischievously. 

Hermione flushed a soft pink. “He... he helps me with my panic attacks. I keep meeting him at night in the courtyard when I can’t sleep. He’s been really kind to me.” She could feel her cheeks turning warm and red in embarrassment. 

Harry smirked at her. “Midnight escapades huh, we taught you well young padawan.” “Harry..." She whined, embarrassed. “It’s not like that, he just makes me feel safe. His magic is so dark but so warm and steady..." 

This caused him to turn a little more seriously. “Magical mingling huh, you trust him that much." 

Hermione stared at him reproachfully. “You know what he sacrificed, what he did for our side.” Her magic swirled a little faster in her agitated state. 

Harry shook his head. “No I’m not saying that you can’t trust him, you absolutely can, he’s the bravest man I know and the most loyal. I’m just surprised you trust him personally. Good or not, you can’t say he’s not also a bastard of epic proportions." 

Hermione sighed. “He’s becoming a lot kinder, now that he isn’t spying for anybody, but yeah. He’s a prick, not to me though.” 

Harry smiled at her. “That’s good enough for me, I’m happy you found somebody to talk to. I know it’s been hard for you." 

She smiled shyly. “Thank you." 

* * *

“Yes!!” Hermione stood up abruptly from where she had been seated behind her desk. “I think I get it now.” Snape stared at her bewildered by the sudden outburst. So unlike the tired young woman he had become acquainted with. 

“You understand what now?” He asked, intrigued by her unusual behaviour. 

She nearly danced towards him, excitedly grabbing his hand, her magic a whirling ocean flaring loosely around her body in exited spirals. “Why electronics won’t work with magic. I think it’s because electricity is a magical conductor. So if even a little bit of magic leaks beyond the wixen’s core, it’s drawn towards the electricity instead of dissipating in the air like it normally would." 

“That’s why shielding the devices doesn’t work either, the shield is partially absorbed into the current and that deregulates the electricity too much from the steady flow it needs to be to power devices.” 

Zabini and Malfoy stared at the happy witch. It had been a long time since any of them had seen Hermione that happy. She was dragging Snape behind her, back to her desk. Spotting them looking she beckoned them over. “Come on, you need to see this, I think I know what the problem is with mixing Magic and Electronics.” 

Zabini smirked at the petite witch. “Calm down Granger, we’re coming." He casually started stalking over to her desk. Malfoy following in his wake, intrigued by the idea. 

Hermione beamed up at the three men surrounding her with a sincerely happy smile. “You can call me Hermione you know.” She stated absently, before launching into her explanation. Completely missing the way Zabini froze at the casual comment. 

“I’m honoured, Hermione.” He stated softly. “You can call me Blaise then." A kind genuine expression was on his face, rarely seen but all the more beautiful for it. Hermione stared up at him, a little shocked at how awed he sounded for such a simple thing. 

“O-Okay.” She stuttered out, mildly entranced by the open and happy expression on his face. She turned to Malfoy, who seemed to be trying to disappear to grant them a moment. “You can call me Hermione as well.” 

“Are you sure?” He asked, seemingly shocked by the permission. 

She frowned up at him, a little confused. “Yeah of course. I’d like to consider us all friends?” She said, asked, almost hesitantly. 

Now both Malfoy and Zabini were staring at her, looking happy and open and kind. All things she didn’t associate much with the usually cool, controlled young men. Reflexively she looked up at Snape, who was hovering close to her. “Why are they looking at me like that?” She whispered, hardly subtle. 

Snape smiled down at her, eyes almost twinkling in mirth. “Because you gave them a chance, and treated them like normal wizards. They’re shocked that you’re allowing them to call you by your first name. I don’t think anybody outside of Slytherin ever granted either of them permission." 

Hermione still stared up at him, a little confused. Snape sighed, then gently patted her head. “It’s a pureblood thing, an admission that you know someone along with a sign of a certain closeness. Think about old Victorian manners really." 

Hermione lit up. “Oh like that, how ancient. I knew a little about this but I never really dived into it because there were..." Her smile slipped from her face. “There were other things I had to research." 

Snape put a warm hand on her shoulder, their magic familiar and easily mingling. Dragging slender fingers through her curls he didn’t say anything just gave her space so that she could regain her balance. 

Eventually she reached up a hand to clench into his white shirt. “Thank you." She mumbled out, leaning her head against the warmth he radiated. Malfoy and Zabini stared at her, a little sad at the example of her damage. 

She would hopefully get over it one day but for now, she would sometimes just... get lost in her head. She was still so paranoid that they had all adjusted to make sure that they made enough noise that she could hear them coming and they all approached her so that she could see what they were doing. 

He merely nodded. “Anytime." 

* * *

Hermione had been staring at the ceiling for hours already. “Tempus." _Four in the morning. I won’t be getting anymore_ _sleep_ _I guess._ She sighed, tugging on her socks, shoes and a warm sweatshirt over her t-shirt. Dragging a blanket along like a cape she sighed and walked towards the courtyard. 

_Maybe Severus will be there... I hope he is still sleeping well, but if he is awake anyway, I hope I can see him. It’s always so soothing to be near him, and the conversations are interesting and his magic is so incredibly warm._ She smiled, a small understated expression, showcasing her warm feelings towards the dark man. 

“Hey." She said softly, spotting him in his usual chair. He was wearing black dress pants and a white shirt, but no robes. Reaching out with her magic, she could feel the thin layer he was maintaining over his skin to keep himself warm. He was holding a glass of scotch, but it seemed to only be the one glass. No bottle in sight. 

He reached for her automatically. Holding out his hand to touch her, a grounding habit that was developing between them after all those nights spend together. 

She sat down on the arm of his chair, easily leaning against his shoulder. A warm hand grasped hers and their magic was sliding together before either of them had even made a conscious decision about it. 

Hermione sighed in relief, the steady force of his magic twined through hers reassuring her that she was safe and keeping the anxious thoughts at bay. Snape blinked away tears. The steady reassurance, the ocean whirling through him and the faith that Hermione had in him were almost painful. 

He had been alone for so many years and had only rarely touched anyone else’s magic. Lily had been the last to come near him so casually. The girl who might as well have been his sister. Hermione reminded him of her so much, yet she was also different enough that it didn’t hurt. Hermione was less judgemental then Lily and had more control over her temper. Hermione was also more damaged and already older than Lily had ever been. 

Pulling her into his lap he embraced her and hid his face against the curve of her neck. He reflexively clutched at her small form, shaken by his nightmare. “Sorry, sorry, just... let me hold you a little longer." He mumbled against her sleep warm skin. 

Hermione didn’t say anything, she just gently rubbed over his back. A soothing gesture as she twined her magic deeper through his. Shifting around until her legs were settled on either side of his hips. Pressing as close as possible she didn’t say anything until she felt his tears stop. 

“It’s fine, Severus. Morgana only knows that you helped me so many times, and you make me feel safe. This isn’t hard on me, in fact..." She wound her arms around his neck, face hidden against his neck, breathing in his scent. “This is very soothing." 

He smiled almost unwillingly. “Are you sure? I can let you go if you don’t want this you know. I understand if being close to me like this makes you uncomfortable. I won’t blame you." He nearly muttered against her skin.

Hermione let her hand drift over his skin, feeling the warmth he seemed to radiate at all times.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable at all. I trust you, I feel safe with you. Don’t just assume everybody hates you, because I happen to like you. You’re a good person." 

Snape blushed, a faint pink staining his pale cheeks. “Sorry." He mumbled uneasily. “I’m just... well aware that I’m not liked." Then he looked grumpy. “Of course, I don’t want to be liked by the usual dunderheads or the retarded buffoons pretending to be teachers." 

Hermione tried to muffle a snicker into his neck, causing a mild shiver when he felt her warm lips and the smile on her face. “I understand. Still..." Her face softened a little more. “I know what you mean, I was never all that liked either but just remember that not everybody is like that." She looked at him shyly. “I’m not like that."

He breathed out against her skin, leaning his forehead against her shoulder. “I know, it’s just hard. I’m sorry if I doubted you, it’s not because of you." 

She sighed just feeling his warm lanky frame almost twined around her, sinking deeper into his magic. She was tired and he made her feel safe, was honest and not so juvenile as her should-have-been peers. Listening to the rumbling base of his voice as he recounted some tales from his latest classes she ended up falling asleep. 

* * *

Hermione was staring at Snape, who was brewing in their classroom for once. Zabini and Malfoy shared a look before the Italian wizard wandered off towards her desk. He flicked a mild privacy barrier around them. “So, Hermione, what’s up with you and our esteemed head of house?" He asked casually, her attention claimed by the ward he raised. 

Hermione flushed a little. “What do you mean?" She asked, almost shyly. 

Zabini looked at her dryly. “I mean that he used to have glare strong enough to act as a paint stripper but you only need to be in the general vicinity to calm him down." 

“I uh, I guess I just got to know him better." She said vaguely. Snape was walking towards them, with a flick of her finger she tore down his ward. “What is it?" She asked him, mildly concerned. 

His eyes flickered over the two of them, unconcernedly lingering near each other. His face was unreadable. “Nothing important, I was just wondering, have you done that demonstration yet?" 

Hermione eyed him in mild confusion. “I... ah, no?" She answered hesitantly. _Why did he bring that up now?_

Snape was stone faced. “Perhaps you can arrange it now, they would benefit from it and the grounds are unusually empty today, since there are a lot of exams going on and it is getting colder." 

Hermione was still wondering why now, but nevertheless he had a point. Turning to Zabini and Malfoy she asked. “I want to show you two a weapon, are you willing to come and see what I can do with it?" Carefully omitting the muggle origins of her gun. 

Zabini nodded carefully. “Alright, do you need to set up targets or prepare anything, or can we go now?" Malfoy also nodded, less careful and more curious. “I’m game, I’m curious what you were using to deal damage. From the insider gossip, as much as there was anything resembling conversation going on Riddle’s side, you were profiled as a huge threat." 

Hermione got up from her chair, Snape put on his robes again, while the three so-called students tugged on their warmer cloaks over their thin uniforms. 

The walk up towards the grounds was quiet, Hermione looped a magical thread around Snape’s wrist and the tense man seemed to relax a fraction, easily melding his own darker denser magic with hers. 

Nobody spoke, but they were all comfortable with that. Snape had always been incredibly introverted, and while Hermione and Zabini hadn’t been quite as bad, they too were introverted by nature. Malfoy started out as an extrovert, but after the war he had become quiet and withdrawn. Conditioned by the death eaters at his family’s mansion to be quiet or else. Even though he was free now, the more reserved quality of his character was likely permanent. 

When they reached the grounds, Snape conjured a few targets. Wooden boards with rings on them, sturdy if simplistic. Hermione easily warded their stretch of land with the same spells that she had used all throughout the war to guard their tent, only reversed to repel wixen instead of muggles. 

“Okay." Hermione started abruptly. “Promise me that you will all keep up a physical shield," both young men’s brows rose at the weirdly specific instruction. That shield was rare after all. “I will aim at the targets, so stay behind me." 

Snape was already standing behind her, and now Malfoy and Zabini joined him, melding their two shields into one larger, stronger structure. Snape allowed his to fade, as he was well covered. 

Hermione took out the Sig Sauer from her illegally enchanted handbag. Carefully taking aim, even though she had a strong mastery over firearms, she didn’t want to make any mistakes with what could possibly hinge on this, she shot. Rapidly holes appeared on the targets and Malfoy turned chalk white. 

“That... that’s how Bellatrix was found, with a hole in her head. And... and the Carrows eventually and a number of lower ranked Death Eaters." He whispered. “What is that? Is it cursed?" He asked feebly, terrified by the proof that Hermione had been horribly effective as a hitwoman. The Dark Lord had been enraged by the systematic targeting of his forces by a cold, efficient killer. 

Hermione took out the bullets. Stuffing them into her handbag. “It’s a muggle weapon, and not one of the more dangerous ones either." She scoffed. Zabini was quietly staring at the shaken form of his best friend. Malfoy was terrified, not necessarily of her, but of that weapon, of what she could do with it. 

Malfoy’s eyes were opened so wide she could see the whites of his eyes. “M-Muggle weapon? Not the most dangerous? What else have they created." Hermione sighed, moving closer to him and sticking the empty weapon into her bag for now. She took his hand, calmly rubbing over his cold skin, trying to ward of the shock which seemed to be setting in. 

“How advanced do you think muggles are? Do they know about basic hygiene, can they read, can they make music. I’m not asking to make fun of how little you know Draco." She stopped to look at him very seriously. “I’m asking so that I know just how deep the Pureblood delusions on the inadequacies of muggles goes. I need to know how much I have to teach you.” 

“I ah, my father he... said that they don’t have good personal hygiene habits, that they can’t read and uh, that they are basically still animals. But now you show me that weapon and I have no idea how it’s made, so that can’t be true. Just.. How much of the dark lords so-called facts were lies?" 

Hermione just stares for a moment. “All of it. Also, I am not saying this to be mean, but you’re all morons. All of the muggleborns in the school can read, have good hygiene habits and they also come from an entirely different culture. You could miss that I suppose, since you never talked to any of them. But how did all of the fucking purebloods miss that we can read and that we could do so before our first lesson?! It’s not just stupid, it’s annoying. There is no logic in your old beliefs Draco." 

Hermione sighed, aggravated. “Did nobody ever bring that up?” Malfoy stared, nonplussed. “The answer was always, magic. Even if they are tainted, muggleborns have magic and that is why they aren’t totally savage.” 

“Stupid." Hermione stated simply, subconsciously reaching for Snape with her magic, as she was prone to doing now. He only melded a thick strand between them. Steadying her for the discussion she now had to have. “Cults always are I suppose. Logic is not their strong suit." Then she snorted. “Wixen in general are not the logical sort I think." 

Trying to centre her thoughts Hermione started with her explanation. “Okay, so, Muggles. They have technology instead of magic. That technology can do many things. Keep things cool, heat them, cook them, showers are a muggle invention for example. They can read, to address your earlier strange assumption. They have culture too, as they are people just like you really." 

“Like wixen, they can be dangerous, because all people can be. They have weapons, that work like bombarda, only worse. Also, poisons so strong that they can kill you if you inhale them. There is also a weapon so strong and so dangerous that it can wipe out entire cities. Like Hiroshima and Nagasaki." 

Mafoy abruptly paled again. “The catastrophes were created by muggles?" Hermione lifted a delicate eyebrow. “Catastrophes?" Now Snape sighed, exasperated. “In most wixen communities it was always known that those cities were once destroyed by atomic bombs, but the British Wizarding World was always... special, as in especially stupid.” 

“Not wanting to know anything about muggles the purebloods named the events the catastrophes. Claiming it was some spell gone wrong.” He rolled his eyes. “Then they just kept claiming that, refusing to admit that it was caused by muggle weapons, because that would prove that they were advanced, and a threat.” 

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ward of a headache. “Business as usual then, for the British enclaves. Ostrich politics, lovely.” _Just when I think I finally have a grasp of the general stupidity around here I find another low._

“I can’t teach you everything you should probably know about the muggle world in one afternoon. I can teach you though, both of you, if you want. It would probably take a long time though.” Hermione patted him gently on the shoulder, she had to reach up to do that though, since everybody was now apparently taller than her. “Why don’t you think about it, I am just going to go back to the classroom now." 

Absently she noted that Zabini seemed to be engaging Malfoy in conversation. Snape went along with her, back towards the castle. Falling into step with her. 

They were silent for a while, until Hermione finally spoke up. “I mean, I knew that we, muggleborns, are seen as subhuman, but for the belief to be so stupid and not at all substantiated is just... so stupid." _No reason... none. I was subhuman to these people and they had no real reasons for that at all... Just... prejudice thoughtlessly repeated generation after generation._

Snape gently took her hand, squeezing it lightly. “I know, it is disappointing, isn’t it. Knowing that all the hate and prejudice you were subjected to was never even for a logical reason." 

Hermione tried not to cry, she pulled on all of her occlumency to accomplish it, but still her hands shook and she looked... sad. _Why is it always so easy for people to be cruel, and so hard for them to be kind?_

Tightening her grasp on his hand until it was nearly painful, she tried to shove her emotions aside, she didn’t want to break down. “I hate them for it, and I can’t do anything with that because teaching them, reaching out to purebloods and muggleborns both, is the only way to end this stalemate that the factions ended up in last time." 

She bit her lip, angry and sad. “So my emotions will just have to take a backseat compared to what society needs, again.” 

Abruptly pulling her into an abandoned classroom, Snape conjured a chair and sank down into it, pulling her along, into his lap. 

Softly, gently, he pushed her head down to rest against his shoulder. He started dragging his fingers through her long wavy tresses. “I’m sorry that this falls on you. It shouldn’t, but we both know nobody else will pick it up. I’ll be here for every step of the way though. If you do want to do this.” He sighed, winding an arm around her slender, too thin still, waist. 

“If it is ever too much, promise me that you will stop. It’s not your responsibility to fix the divide between the purebloods and the muggleborns. You can just let go. You don’t need to help anyone Hermione, you’ve more than done enough.” 

At the declaration that she should put herself first, that she mattered too, Hermione finally broke down. Snape only sighed when he felt the hot tears spill over against his skin. Rubbing up and down her back slowly he said nothing, and held her as she fell apart. 

It took a long time for her to calm down again. Eventually she was just drifting, she could feel Snape’s hand gliding over her spine soothingly. The warmth of his magic all around her. She felt safe, and tired. She didn’t want to go face the world, she wanted to stay just like this, warm and safe. 

“Do you think we will ever be okay?” She asked, softly, haltingly. She sounded young all of a sudden. Snape tightened his hand in her hair, dragging her face away from his neck. He looked at her, at her eyes red from crying, her pale face, and the purple smudges beneath her eyes. Pressing a soft kiss against her forehead, he finally answered. “Not... any time soon. But yes, I do think we will be alright. Eventually, it’s going to take time, and probably a lot of therapy.” He stated dryly. 

Hermione slumped over against him. The skin contact was calming. “I hope so..." She eventually whispered. “I really hope so.” 

* * *

Hermione whimpered, twisting between her sheets. She had managed to wind the white fabric into ropes around her. “No no... please no." She pleaded with her invisible assailant. 

Crookshanks jumped onto the bed. On light paws he stalked over to his witch. Then, he jumped onto her stomach, abruptly waking her up. She stared at the dark ceiling, mind still whirling. Lifting a hand to pat her familiar she mindlessly rubbed over his soft fur. “Thanks.” She whispered to him hoarsely, voice cracking. 

Well aware that she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep, she heaved herself up. A thick sweater, boots and a cloak were her only concession to the cold. Grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a new novel she went out to the courtyard, 

When she reached the empty courtyard, she thought it over for a moment, before deciding against her usual chair. Instead she transfigured a couch. Leaning against the incredibly fluffy pillows she had created against the arm; she stretched her legs. _This is nice_ . She mused thoughtfully. _I should do this more often, curling up in a chair is nice too, but this is more... relaxed._

She lit a cigarette. Deeply inhaling the smoke, she held it in for moment, feeling the mild burn and relishing in the way her tense muscles relaxed. Breathing out she sighed, creating rings and creatures of smoke, she amused herself with the wandless magic exercise for a while. 

Sprawled out over the couch Hermione just looked at the stars for a while. _Still lighting the way for us, even though many stars are already long gone..._

When she heard the leaves crunch, she turned her head. Spotting Snape coming towards her she laid her head back down on the arm of the couch. Wordlessly she nodded her head, when he raised an eyebrow, as if asking if he could join her on her couch. Lifting her legs, he slumped down onto the couch, setting her legs down on his lap. 

Subconsciously he started stroking her legs. Hermione shivered under the soft ministrations. Body going lax at the nice feeling. When Snape glanced in her direction at the feeling of her ocean magic lazily whirling through the air around her, he was a little surprised at the puddle of goo his night-time companion had turned into. 

Hermione, noticing his mildly stunned expression eventually spoke up. “That feels good.” Was all she said, enjoying the warm skin contact. 

“Have you thought about what you want to do after you officially graduate?" Snape asked the young witch. She froze up, tense and wary. “I... no, I... didn’t really... think it through.” She muttered. “I came for the free room and board, since it was already paid for. I don’t have anywhere else to go after this.” 

Snape didn’t answer for a while, he just kept languidly gliding his warm hands over her soft skin. “You can always patent new spells. You have several of them, right?" He finally asked, voice a mere whisper. She groaned. “Maybe, but I doubt purebloods will go for it, I don’t have a muggle education and Wixen Britain is too prejudiced against muggleborns still. I can’t get a decent job anywhere.” 

Snape sighed lowly, well aware that she was, unfortunately, right. He frowned unhappily. Then a new idea hit him. “You could teach Muggle Studies.” 

Hermione froze, looking at him wide eyed. “That’s... that could solve so many things. Am I even qualified? Would Professor McGonagall even consider hiring me?” 

Snape snorted. “You grew up in the Muggle World, that already makes you more qualified than the current excuse for a professor. You would need teaching credentials, but you can gain those in a few months of long-distance learning. I don’t think anybody ever tried to gain those credentials while still in school.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Though I don’t see any reason why you technically couldn’t do that." 

The more she thought on it, the more enthusiastic she became. Hermione did enjoy teaching somewhat and it would be infinitely preferable to working in the Ministry. Hogwarts had always been a home to her, her only home now. It would allow her to work somewhere where the rampant prejudice against muggleborns at least didn’t have the overhand. 

“I’ll suggest it to Minerva in the morning.” Snape muttered. “She’s always adored you and she will certainly think what you’re trying to do would be important. She might not know much about muggles but she’ll listen if we try to tell her of the danger of discovery." 

Hermione sighed, then, sitting up, she threw her legs over the arm of the couch she was previously resting against and leaned against the dark man next to her. “In the morning then." She said, whilst twining her ocean currents through his warm dark core. 

Snape seemed to debate with himself for a while and then he finally voiced his question. “Why did you come back? You could have disappeared into the Muggle World quite easily. Your parents would have supported you right? So why come back at all?" 

Hermione looked at her trembling hands, well aware that she was having a panic attack but unable to do anything about it. Snape softly rubbed her back, gathering her up in his arms trying to make her feel safe. 

Finally she managed to speak. “There is nothing left for me there. My parents..." She swallowed uneasily her occlumency unable to quite contain the grief. “They died. In Australia." 

He tightened his arms hugging her firmly a wash of his warm magic swirling around her in an attempt to make her feel even the tiniest bit better. “I’m sorry for your loss." He told her sincerely and softly. 

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to ignore her tears. “I erased their memory so that they would be safe, I didn’t even ask. I just wanted to keep them safe. Some days it was all I had to get through the day. That I would get to see them again and apologize." 

Leaning her head against his warm steady form she sighed deeply. “I tried to track them down this summer. They died in a car crash not even knowing their own names, unaware they ever had a daughter." 

He pressed a soft kiss to her hair. “Sorry for asking." He murmured softly. 

Hermione shook her head. “No, thank you for asking, I never really told anybody and it was eating at me." She smiled, a wry twist of her lips. “Occlumency is never really a solution in the long term for things like this." 

He sighed. “You are right of course, still, I am sorry that I upset you. That was never my intention." She tried to focus on his warmth and his magic. Letting it lull her into a more relaxed state. “I know. I trust you." 

It didn’t take her long to fall asleep against him, tired and safe. 

* * *

Hermione woke up in bed, for once well rested. She flushed a pale pink colour when she realised that Snape had likely carried her back to bed. “Tempus." She muttered distractedly. _11:20, I should get out of bed soon..._

_I wonder if we are required to wear our uniforms? It’s not like we’re following the usual education, and we’re not underage... I should ask Severus if it’s necessary. I don’t like these skirts at all..._

But for now Hermione tugged on her knee-length socks and a skirt. Pulling on her white shirt she stared at the rest of her uniform before deciding on the sleeveless black sweater for extra warmth. Pulling her unruly hair into a messy ponytail to get it out of her face. 

She made her way to the kitchen quietly, the other students should be in class by now so hopefully she could avoid speaking to anybody. Entering the kitchens she softly asked for some fruit and tea. The elves gave it to her along with some bread and an admonishment to eat a little more. 

Sighing she made her way towards the dungeons, quickly finishing her meal. Holding the cup of tea between her hands for extra warmth she entered the classroom. 

Pulling out a few more books, she settled at her desk, trying to get some more research in on how to make electronics function in a magical environment. Just because she knew the problem didn’t mean it was solved after all. “Maybe if I can create a null zone around the electronics or something. It would be hard but I think it’s possible.” She muttered to herself under her breath, taking inspiration from a video game. 

Snape came in, spotting the young woman already hard at work, tea long since gone cold and forgotten on a corner of her desk he sighed lowly in amusement. That was so like her. 

He picked up the cup, easily reheating it. Deliberately scuffing a boot over the stone floor to alert her he set a warm hand on her shoulder as she looked up at him, a little dazed from coming out of her fugue state. “Here." He said, handing her the cup of steaming tea. She took it automatically, following behind him to the shared table as the other two came in. 

Malfoy spoke up first. “I have all the ingredients and the end result should be non-toxic." He frowned. “Should... I don’t really know, but I wanted to ask you how do I find out what the steps should be in the brewing process?" The question was directed at Snape. 

Zabini left them too it, facing Hermione he asked. “So, how are things going with your project?” She smiled, not nearly as bright as she used to, but also not as flat and false as she had the first few weeks. “I’m investigating null zones, if I can create those around electronics, they should work alright. Normally you plug them into the electric network, but the wizarding world doesn’t have that. Still, a low powered continuous self-sustaining lightning spell shouldn’t be too hard.” 

Zabini stared at her a little incredulous. “That... would be a mastery level charm creation I think.” Hermione flushed. “Uhm, it’s not that hard, the runes for lightning and a containment looping system. Arithmancy to calculate the strength.” She flushed harder when she noticed him looking at her with humour. “That’s considered Mastery level charms work Hermione. That’s amazing." He said, quite sincerely. 

Hermione, who was a deep pink colour by now, struggled to find an answer to that. “Ah, well thanks...” She eventually muttered. 

Malfoy sighed. “That’s going to take a long time.” He stated, in answer to Snape’s explanation. The man only nodded calmly. 

“New potions are always a lengthy process.” He stated factually. 

Zabini stared at the irritated Malfoy heir. “It’s worth it." The blonde stated. “But it is still annoying.” Snape smiled. “Yes, but you can calculate and cut out part of the trial and error portion." The pale young man perked up a little. “You can? How?" 

Hermione smiled. “You need to know about the chemical composition of your ingredients, it will allow you to skip all the versions where reactive ingredients are added directly after one another." 

The Malfoy Heir looked at her, confused. “What’s a chemical composition?” He asked, seriously. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow, looking at the identical confused look on Zabini’s face she sighed. “Purebloods." She muttered, irritated. “If you tear something down to its basic components, those are chemical building blocks. Muggles have been doing this for decades now, it allows for a more in depth look into how things are created. It also means you can create hybrid materials from a combination of chemical components that wouldn’t occur in nature. Or you can create diamonds from carbon with enough pressure and heat.” 

Both of them stared at her, totally surprised. “Right.” Hermione said. “I will definitely have to educate you on the muggle world, this is just ridiculous, next you are going to tell me that you don’t know why the sky is usually blue.” The stared some more. 

The petite witch threw her hands up in the air, exasperated while Snape hid a smile. “I might be ignorant of pureblood culture, but from my point of view you are both ignorant about basic facts of the world.” 

Snape nodded. “They are, I was horrified to learn that wixen culture hasn’t changed in hundreds of years, they are truly stagnant because they refuse to adapt to the new inventions of muggles. I do agree that they should be adapted to fit into the magical culture instead of replacing it, but there is really nothing in that culture that forbids, for example, ballpoint pens, except pureblood pride.” 

Zabini stared at them curiously. “What’s a ballpoint pen?” He asked quietly. 

Hermione conjured a pen, as a child she’d pulled everything apart, ever curious to know how something worked and so she could easily visualise the whole pen. 

“It’s a quill that you don’t have to dip in ink. She demonstrated by writing her name on a spare piece of parchment." Zabini and Malfoy both stared at the parchment, a little shocked. “So, muggles invented this?” The Italian asked curiously. 

Hermione nodded. “Yeah. But they also figured out why the rainbow appears, they’ve been to the moon and they know why volcanos sometimes erupt and how mountain ranges were created.” Now both young men are looking at her bug eyed. She shrugged casually. “Keep in mind that most of this is basic knowledge in the muggle world, they learn this before they even turn eleven." She added calmly. 

“I don’t understand." The Malfoy Heir muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose, as if he was trying to ward of a headache. “I’ve been taught all my life that muggles are stupid and I know intellectually that they are people but then muggleborns come to Hogwarts and they know nothing. The times I’ve seen a muggleborn commit a faux-pas is too high to count.” 

Hermione raised a mocking eyebrow. “You mean they don’t follow the rules of your culture. Maybe because oh, I don’t know... they were never taught?” She stared at him like he was an idiot and she was contemplating if he had enough brain power to breath on his own. “Let me assure you, from my point of view, you’ve made numerous faux-passes as well.” 

He flushed a deep red. “I... yeah that, that makes sense. Sorry." Hermione’s eyes softened. “It’s okay, you’ve been indoctrinated all of your life and now you are trying to learn. That is more than most people ever manage.” 

Zabini then asked a question that made Hermione’s brain stall for a second in sheer disbelief. “What is indoctrination?" Even Snape’s eyebrow raised in surprise. 

_Do they really know nothing about mind control without the spells? About the way you can convince people of something if only you target a whole group and present your arguments from childhood? Do they even know the details of the views opposed to the political dark-side? It’s like... they weren’t even aware that their truth is just a point of view and not_ _necessarily_ _The Truth._

Hermione swallowed uneasily before trying to gather her thoughts to answer. “Morgana, I need a cigarette.” She groaned, fishing a pack out of her desk. Lighting it up with a flare of fire over her finger she inhaled, trying to calm down. “I don’t know how I am going to explain all of this. Do you know what a culture clash is?" 

She seemed incredibly relieved when they nodded. “That’s something, though why you’ve never applied that to the wixen coming into the Wixen World I’ll never know." 

She sighed, inhaling the smoke greedily, trying to will the nicotine to work faster. “Indoctrination is teaching someone or a multiple people a one-sided view of something and then ignoring or dismissing anything and anyone that doesn’t agree with that view." 

Staring at the smoke swirling higher she slumped over further into her chair. “So exactly like purebloods have been raising their children for centuries.” 

“This is straying uncomfortably into the area of behaviour modification, gaslighting and other psychological mindfucks." Hermione muttered, upset and tired. “I don’t want to talk about these things, because most of them are linked to various atrocities in history and they all hit a little too close to torture and the war. However, I can and will provide you both with psychology books explaining the concepts.” 

She stared at the two Slytherins, lines etched on her face making her appear years older. “Merlin knows it might help you two understand the disgust I feel for both Dumbledore and Voldemort a bit better. Child groomers and chess masters, the both of them.” 

She stood up from her spot at the table. “I need a break.” She stated roughly, but paradoxically not harshly. She barely remembered how she got to the courtyard which served as her night time retreat so often. Flicking a finger to a branch to transfigure it into a couch, she collapsed onto it. 

She just stared at the sky for a while, tired and upset and worn down. _They are going to spiral down the rabbit hole of their own life. It’s going to suck. They don’t even know just how much they were manipulated I bet._ Throwing an arm over her eyes, she tried to concentrate on just breathing. 

She felt his warm dark signature before he even stepped foot in the courtyard. She was becoming increasingly sensitive to his magic because of the large amount of time she spent intertwining her own magic with his. 

Hermione didn’t even open her eyes, trusting her magic and too tired to bother with moving. Snape lifted her legs and slid under them, letting her legs settle over his lap easily. Comfortably she reached for his magic and felt their magic blending together. “They don’t even know the extent of the wrong done to them.” She mumbled, frustrated. 

“The wixen world has no concept of how the mind works or how disastrous gaslighting can be or just how much you can hurt someone with words, do they?” She finally asked, in a small voice. She could feel his magic whirl for a second, before slowing down again. “No, mental health is not a priority or even a known concept in the wixen world." He confirmed, his voice very carefully kept even. 

Her own magic spiked for a second, turning sharp and spicy. Feeling the dense heated magic of her companion smoothing over the sharp points helped. Instead of retreating as all other she had ever trusted this close had, he soothed her enough that she tried to breath out to regain her control. It still took her some moments to regain the usual currents of her magic, for the feeling of an ocean to slowly replace the sharp spice. 

“There is so much we should teach this society, it’s so unhealthy and dangerous to run around without knowing this.” Silently tears were starting to slide down to her temples. “Everybody who doesn’t fit the narrow mould of good and light is judged, watched and driven away." 

Then, she sighed, breathing in deeply and letting it all go. For a long time they were silent, and Hermione drifted. She reinforced her occlumency barriers, repairing them and shielding herself. When she came up from her trance like state she spoke up once more. “It’s not on me. I want to help and I will, but I don’t need to fix this society." She looked up at the sky, feeling calmer and more centred. “It’s not my problem to claim." 

She smiled at Snape, far more world weary then she had been as a teenager, but somehow just as bright. Just as hopeful. “I feel lighter.” Snape smirked at her. “I can only imagine.” He quipped, then he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “I am proud of you, for not chaining yourself to another cause." She grinned, sitting up and leaning back against the arm of the couch. 

“Thank you.” 

* * *

Hermione woke abruptly and stared at the ceiling, she felt like she had spent years staring at that ceiling already and was starting to resent the all too familiar stones and the cracks a little. 

It took her over an hour to finally talk herself into getting a shower and while the water was beating down on her naked back all she could do was stare at the wall. The nightmares were ever-present and always took their toll but today she was just not... bouncing back. At all. It was like she wasn’t really there, and even if she was person-shaped, she didn’t feel like a person. 

Drifting towards the wardrobe, she pulled out an ill-fitting too large olive-green sweater with a print of a golden tree on it. Tugging on knee-length thick woollen black socks she tried to locate her boots. Her room was a mess, since she didn’t like to spend time there and getting up was hard enough without cleaning up after herself. 

Using her wand to pin her errand curls in place she stuck a pack of cigarettes into the pocket of her sweater. Picking one of the more twisted novels she owned she sighed, looking around the messy room before deciding to once more ignore it. She left without a backward glance. 

_I wonder why our courtyard is never used by others? I’ve only ever seen Blaise here, and even_ _then,_ _he only came here once..._

Transfiguring a leaf into a couch that nearly swallowed her, but was incredibly comfortable, she stared at the sky. _Tired... I need to sleep more, but I need a way to get rid of the nightmares._ Rolling around to curl up on her side she twisted an escaped ringlet around her finger. _I know the mind needs dreams to work through memories on a subconscious level, but there has to be a way to do that without negatively impacting daily life._

Shucking her boots she smoked a cigarette and stared ahead. Summoning a bottle of water from her dorm room she just sank a little further into the couch as she drank the water. Too tired to read, to think, to do anything she just kept staring as the sky started changing. 

She was lighting her third cigarette by the time the sky was finally conquered by the dawn. Inky black had been replaced by a delicate shade of pink and still Hermione was frozen, unable to get herself to do anything even remotely useful. 

Tendrils of syrup-like dark magic were already twining into her sluggishly whirling ocean by the time she really realized she’d been joined by her once professor. He came straight towards her sprawled out form and plucked her up without even stopping to greet her. Collapsing into her couch he arranged for her to rest against him, between his legs. 

His dark magic twined through hers at an agitated pace. Finally spotting the cherry red glow of her cigarette he conjured a side table and an ashtray within easy reach. Then he slumped over and dropped his forehead onto her exposed shoulder. 

Together they just breathed, neither feeling the need to break the silence. They sat there until the sun had climbed over their heads and chased away the shadows of their courtyard. Hermione was squinting into the sun with an irritated expression. When Snape finally opened his eyes and saw her face he smiled at her grumpy demeanour and promptly conjured a parasol. 

The tension seemed to just melt from her frame. Leaving her a puddle of dozing woman. He plucked her wand out of her hair and was amazed by her easy trust when she didn’t even stir. He put it into her hand and when her head lolled to the side, he started dragging his fingers through the long silky curtain of curls. 

Crookshanks appeared and curled up on Hermione’s lap. Snape considered himself lucky that the ginger monstrosity hadn’t clawed him. Since the cranky kneazle-cat was a familiar, he was protected by laws and the menace seemed to know it. He had seen the way he had clawed at people who bothered the woman who had fallen asleep against him. 

The kneazle purred, a rumbling noise which seemed to sooth Hermione into a deeper sleep. Spotting the book tucked in between her leg and the couch he waved a hand to summon it and started reading. Perfectly content to spend a Saturday accidentally being held hostage by an amazing woman and her grumpy cat. She had chased his nightmares far away with her mere presence after all. 

* * *

Flooing to Diagon Alley wasn’t particularly on her to-do list since it was so crowded but visiting Ron was, and so she was indeed flooing. Hermione had already cast a glamour on herself because being recognized would be bad... for everyone. 

Opening the door to the twin’s joke shop she smiled at the sight. It had taken months for before George was able to even begin to pick himself up again. He was still too thin and pale, a mere shadow of his former self but she was so happy to see a tiny smile on his face as he watched Ron attempt to deal with fangirls. 

She smirked. “Hello George." She said quietly, trusting that he would recognize her even with the glamour. He didn’t disappoint. Sweeping her up in an embrace he twirled her once before setting her on her feet again. “Hello Mione, how is Hogwarts treating you?" He asked softly. He had always been the quieter twin, but now it was like he faded into the background around anybody he didn’t know well. 

She smiled at the depressed redhead. He’d come a long way but he was still grieving and hurting so much. 

“It’s okay. Zabini Malfoy and Snape are turning out to be pretty good company." He patted her head. “That’s good Mione. I heard from Harry about what happened with Gin." He sighed. “She’s always had a temper, but I was still shocked to hear it turned this nasty." 

He was guiding her towards the staff room, signalling one of the employees to take over for Ron. “I’m disappointed in her, and I told her that. I still support her of course. She’s in therapy. I think it’s good for her, she’s stopped hounding Harry and she’s working on her temper." 

Hermione looked up at him thoughtfully. “That’s good. While I can’t quite get myself to go near her, I do find it reassuring to hear that she still has support." She sighed. “It’s also great to hear that she has stopped hounding Harry. That is one pairing that is never going to work out. He doesn’t want her. He’s never wanted her and watching her throw herself at him was disturbing.” 

George shuddered delicately just as Ron opened the door to let himself into the staff room. “Yes, mom certainly didn’t do her any favours by raising her on stories of the Great Boy Who Lived." 

Ron snorted. “You got that right, I love Harry, but he’s nothing like those fairy tales, too shy and modest really.” He stated fondly. 

Walking over to Hermione, the younger redhead hugged her for a long moment, their magic mingling freely despite the long separation. Ocean and warm steady earth twined easily, sliding over each other with familiarity. 

“I’ve missed you Mione.” Ron said softly. She sighed in his embrace. “I’ve missed you too. Sorry, I am just... trying to deal I guess.” 

He smiled at her gently. “I know, I don't blame you, I’m just glad you’re here now.” 

She smiled at her redheaded friends, happy to see them. The rest of the afternoon passed quickly all three happily reunited. 

**Author's Note:**

> An attempt at an overdone idea, but I was tempted by Hermione/Severus Slow Burn ideas, so here we are.


End file.
